Wedding Planning
by Idan
Summary: Follow up to Wedding in Red, which felt really unfinished to me. Jane and Lisbon talk about weddings. Hypothetically, of course. Now a multi-chapter.
1. Wine and Weddings

**Disclaimer:** If they were mine, there would be a lot more talking. And drinking. And, ahem, other things.

The sun was almost setting when she found him, finally, relaxing on a wooden bench seat tucked away in a corner of the garden. He'd purloined a bottle of wine and a glass from somewhere; as she moved closer, she tried to see how much was left in the bottle. Was he drunk? It could be hard to tell with him.

"Lisbon," he greeted her, seemingly glad to have her company. Though that was sometimes hard to tell, too. "There you are. Have a seat."

"How long have you been out here?" she asked, sitting down beside him.

He made a little production of pulling a second glass from his jacket pocket and pouring her some wine. It was red and smelled like the kind of wine you should drink with a big bowl of stew, not sip by itself in a garden. "I saw our happy couple off, and then retired to think. What a productive trip this turned out to be. Aren't you glad I talked you into it?"

He hadn't talked her into it so much as hustled her out the door before she had a chance to think, she reflected. It bothered her that he obviously knew how susceptible she was to his touch—when he didn't want her to think about something, distracting her with his hands was all too easy. And this time he'd pulled out all the stops with the jacket and the hair. God, the hair. He'd practically fondled it. She hadn't felt so fussed over since she was a child. She wished he'd do it again, but he had no reason to now.

It depressed her a little that she could long to be manipulated, because that was the only time he touched her, wasn't it? Well, maybe stroking her hair in the hospital had just been for comfort. She could let herself believe that.

"Lisbon?" he said gently, and she stared at the glass he was holding out to her for a second before taking it. "Lost in thought? Let me guess. The post-wedding melancholy of the single woman?"

"That's the most sexist thing I've ever heard you say," she remarked, then took a sip of the wine. It was good, though not what she'd prefer to drink. Maybe she could distract him by getting him started on its nose, or bouquet, or whatever. "What kind of wine is this? It's good."

"Nice try, Lisbon, but I'm not going to waste my breath talking about top notes to someone who categorizes all wine as 'good,' 'bad,' or 'what the hell is this'." He chuckled, apparently having amused himself. He was a little tipsy, then, she noted. Or wanted her to think he was. "And I wasn't being sexist. Though perhaps I was generalizing a bit. You've never shown any sign of wanting to be married, after all."

"I spent the first half of my life taking care of men," she replied. "Why on earth would I want more of that?"

"Ah. True. But now who's being sexist? You assume that any man you'd marry would want to be taken care of. Perhaps he'd rather take care of you."

"I don't need to be taken care of." Really, how could he not know that?

"No, you don't. But wouldn't it be nice to try it for once? To have someone put dinner on the table as you walk in the door at night, do those domestic chores you hate, give you little surprises to make you smile, and curl up with you at night on the couch watching old moves and eating your favorite ice cream, which he stashed behind the five-year-old bag of stir fry vegetables in your freezer so he could bring it out at just the right time?"

Okay, maybe he did know her. Or at least her freezer. "Sounds great. If you run into this mythical man, be sure to send him my way."

Jane sipped his wine and grinned at her. "I certainly will. Though not before I warn him that openly displaying his desire to care for you will only get him kicked soundly to the curb. He'll have to be sneaky about it. Leave things in your desk when you're out, slip things into your pockets when you're not looking. That kind of thing."

"Don't I get enough of that already from you?" she replied without thinking. Then she felt herself blush and could only hope the light was bad enough that he wouldn't notice.

He hummed thoughtfully. "Maybe you do."

"Anyway," she said hastily, "it couldn't be someone at CBI. The new rules only apply if there are no rank issues. I'm a senior agent. I think all the guys that leaves me are either married or un-marriable."

"Hm," he said again. "I fall into both those categories, I suppose."

"You? You want to get married again?" She couldn't keep the shock from her voice. Mr. Lone Wolf? Really?

"I liked being married," he replied, shrugging. "But of course I'm not free to really think about it at this point. It's just a pipe dream."

She found it incredibly hopeful that he let himself dream, even a little bit, of his future. "And in this pipe dream, does your gorgeous wife have dinner on the table when you come home?" she teased.

"Only if she gave up on waiting for me and ordered takeout," he chuckled, draining his glass and pouring himself a refill. "Marriage doesn't mean trying to re-enact 'Leave It to Beaver,' you know. The only time I'd expect her to vacuum wearing pearls is if we were doing some kinky roleplaying. And it would have to be her idea, because that particular scenario doesn't do a thing for me."

Maybe he was a little tipsy, she thought. But as much as his mind fascinated her, she knew better than to pry open the lid on that box. A conversation about Jane's sexual fantasies would end with her wanting the Earth to open up and swallow her, she felt sure. He probably had ideas about weird circus sex—

_No_, she told herself firmly, taking a hasty swallow of wine to hide her blush. _Do. Not. Go. There._

Jane chuckled, as if having heard her thought. "So, in your turtleneck fantasies, is there a pipe involved? Or a newspaper and slippers?"

"I don't know where you got that stupid idea, but no," she retorted.

"A snifter of brandy," he continued, ignoring her. "And a smoking jacket, perhaps. You're a traditionalist at heart, aren't you, Lisbon?"

"Right," she snorted. "My idea of a domestic evening is coming home from work and cleaning my gun while waiting for the pizza to arrive. Very traditional."

"You're a traditional bachelor," he said. "You just need someone who's comfortable with reversing the traditional gender roles, that's all. Someone confident enough in his masculinity to wear an apron while baking you a cake because it's your birthday and you forgot all about it until Cho handed you a card."

"That happened _once_," she grumbled. "And nobody baked me a cake."

"If I had an oven in my attic, I assure you I would have," he said gallantly.

Against her will, the picture formed in her mind: Jane in a pink apron holding out a three-tiered chocolate cake with painstaking flourishes in the frosting, grinning like a madman and not even caring about the flour in his hair. It made her want to laugh and cry simultaneously.

"So," Jane continued cheerfully, "if you're the one in the smoking jacket and slippers reading the paper—we'll omit the pipe since this is the twenty-first century—that means you need a man who will bustle about the kitchen, clean up after the dog—"

"What dog? Who has time for a dog?" she demanded.

"Says the woman with pictures of dogs rather than humans on her desk. Of course you'd have a dog if you had a husband to walk him," he said dismissively. "Where was I? Oh, yes. Clean up after the dog, keep the house from becoming a health hazard, and do the menu planning on Sunday morning so I can buy everything we need for the week that afternoon."

Lisbon froze at the change in pronoun. She hadn't let herself believe he was picturing the two of them, but he was.

She finished the rest of her wine in one gulp to give herself time to think, but it made her start coughing. Jane patted her on the back and took the glass out of her hand, setting it carefully on the ground next to the empty bottle. "Breathe, Lisbon."

Finally, she managed to stop coughing. He patted her back one last time, then rubbed his hand comfortingly between her shoulder blades, his fingers reaching into her hair. Was he—was he _petting_ her hair?

One of them had to be drunk. Or asleep. She was pretty sure it wasn't her, because her dreams were never this nice anymore.

She sprang to her feet, and he got to his more leisurely. "We should be heading back," he said before she had a chance to.

She patted her pocket to make sure he hadn't lifted her keys. He hadn't, which was good because there was no way she was letting him drive after drinking most of a bottle of wine.

"No need to worry, Lisbon. There's no such thing as a sneaky drunk. Even I'm not that talented." His smile looked fake, and he seemed to realize it, because he looked away immediately.

"Good to know. I bet you're a weepy drunk," she said, hoping to tease him out of his sudden funk.

"A melancholy drunk," he sighed, resting his hand on the small of her back as they walked along the garden path. Then he straightened his posture back out and said, "But there's no reason to be melancholy today. Two people who have been ridiculously in love for years but tripped over their own priorities finally made it to the altar. They set a shining example for the rest of us and deserve to live happily ever after."

"Yes, they do," she agreed. But she couldn't blame him for being sad. Weddings must bring back memories of his own, after all.

They were halfway to the parking lot when he said, "Would you wear white, Lisbon?"

"I don't know. I'm not much for dressing up." She would keep this simple, she resolved. She would not follow him into a daydream that would hurt to give up on later.

"But you have to get dressed up in church, right? You'd do it in church." It wasn't a question, so she remained silent. After a moment, he continued, "I'd rather do something simple and private. Like Rigsby and Van Pelt. Is she changing her name? Do we have to call them Rigsby and Rigsby now? It sounds like a jeweller's."

"Patrick Jane, you are so drunk," she couldn't help chuckling.

"If I am, does that mean you'll grant me more leeway than you usually do?"

"Absolutely not," she replied, head filling with possible varieties of inappropriate behavior. "Not in a parking lot, anyway. Not with Sheriff McAllister probably hiding behind a tree making sure we don't cause any more trouble before we leave his jurisdiction."

"Hm. Good point." He frowned. "If he's Red John, he must have really enjoyed saving my life. Making me wonder."

She winced at the thought of how much danger he'd been in, both from the suspect and possibly from the sheriff. "When are you going to stop standing so close to suspects once you're outed them? You scared the crap out of me."

"Me too. For a second there, I thought he'd shot you." She felt him shiver.

"Lucky for me, he was a lousy shot," she said as they reached the car. She got into the driver's seat and waited for Jane to settle into the passenger seat and put his seatbelt on, hoping he'd fall asleep on the drive home.

But once they were on the main road, he asked, "Would you wear your hair up?"

"What's with the twenty wedding questions, Jane?"

"Just trying to picture it, is all." He yawned.

"Fine. Here's what will happen." She decided to end this once and for all. "I'll decide to get married in church back in Chicago, and my sisters-in-law will take over the wedding planning. I won't have time to pick anything out and it will turn into one of those huge circuses they show on that TV channel I never watch. The skirt on the dress will be twice as wide as I am tall, and I won't be able to walk in the stupid shoes, and I'll hate the veil and refuse to wear it at the last minute. The church will be full of people I don't know anymore and I'll be terrified the groom is going to back out any minute because he didn't want any of this. And I'll start wishing we'd just gone to Vegas and thinking maybe this was all a stupid idea and maybe I don't want to be married after all, at least not like this."

He chuckled drowsily. "And then your groom, who knows perfectly well this is all going through your head, will force his way into the room, shooing off your sisters-in-law and trying not to laugh at your miles of skirt. Because really, the idea of you in a crinoline is absurd."

"Damn straight," she muttered.

"And he'll help you change back into your regular clothes, and then he'll take your hand and you'll both sneak out the back door he wisely located earlier. Once you're in the cab he called, he'll pull out the two plane tickets to Vegas he bought yesterday when he realized what was going to happen, and the two of you drink an entire bottle of champagne in first class on the flight and laugh your heads off while being married by an Elvis impersonator. And everyone who sees the wedding pictures says they wish they'd had that much fun at their wedding."

She found herself smiling. There was something attractive about the ridiculous picture he was painting—probably because there was no one she could imagine doing that with besides him.

Oh, shit. He'd lured her into the daydream. She looked over at him to see that he had his eyes closed and was smiling, enjoying himself.

Well, maybe there was no harm in a little daydreaming if it took his mind off his sadness. "And where do we go for our honeymoon?"

"Good question. He let you think it was someplace modestly expensive, like maybe the Del Coronado in San Diego, until he had to give you your boarding pass for Bali and you start complaining that you could have bought a house for what he paid for those first-class lie-flat seats. But he just smiles at you because he has plans for that little hut on a deserted beach he's taking you to, and he knows you'll forgive him once he gets started."

"Oh, so this husband of mine is so good in bed he can get away with anything?" she challenged.

He chuckled. "No. Well, yes, but it's not about the sex. It's about the way he looks at you like he can't believe how lucky he is, the way he touches you reverently like you're a work of art. The way he's obsessed with your hair and constantly wants to run his fingers through it now that he knows what it feels like."

She swallowed, glancing quickly at him. His eyes were still closed, and he'd leaned his head back as if about to fall asleep. "That sounds like it would get annoying."

"Oh, he knows that. He's constantly struggling against temptation where you're concerned, my dear. You're good for his willpower."

_You're terrible for mine_, she thought. She probably had a better shot at winning the lottery than this coming true, but she would enjoy the idea while it lasted. Until he did something else that made her want to kill him, at least. She sighed. "Jane?"

His sleepy "hm?" was barely audible.

"Do me a favor. Don't let me waste all that money on a wedding that isn't going to happen. Just hand me the plane tickets up front, all right?"

He grinned, eyes still closed. "All right."

A minute later, he was truly asleep, snoring a little from the wine. She glanced at him ruefully and wondered how much of that he'd meant to say. It was impossible to know whether he was drunk or testing the waters, or even just messing with her. But she didn't think he'd have painted those tempting pictures if he didn't want them too. He was devious, and he could be cruel, but he'd never toyed with her heart. Not on purpose.

Well, there was no way she was going to find out until they caught Red John, and she still didn't know if he'd crossed McAllister off the list. She'd ask him later, when she was sure he was sober.

And then maybe she'd tell him she would rather honeymoon in a castle in Ireland.


	2. Morning After

**Author's Note: **This is for all the lovely reviewers who asked for a sequel. It didn't turn out quite as I planned, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!

Patrick Jane woke with a nagging headache, which was fairly unusual, on an unfamiliar couch, which was shockingly rare. Even as he struggled to focus his gritty eyes, his nose reported back that there was no immediate cause for alarm: the blanket tucked snugly around him smelled strongly of Lisbon. A glance around told him he was on the couch in her living room and, furthermore, that she'd left him a big glass of water and two pills.

He was getting old. When he was younger he'd never have suffered even a mild hangover from wine, even most of a bottle's worth. At least he hadn't gotten truly drunk. With the stress he was under and his increasing anxiety about Lisbon's safety, there's no telling what he might have done.

As it was, he'd only gotten tipsy and talked some nonsense, which was fine because Lisbon wouldn't hold it against him. She'd been trained at a young age to ignore drunken ramblings, and she'd rather scale the Empire State Building than have a conversation about feelings. He was confident she would pretend it never happened, so he could too.

Reviewing their conversation in the car, he winced a little. He hadn't rambled; he'd babbled. About weddings. No, about her wedding. And she'd let him.

At least she had no idea he'd assigned himself the role of the groom in that little fantasy. It was bad enough that she'd encouraged him. He thought about that as he swallowed the pills and drank the water. She usually tried to ground his flights of fancy, so what had induced her to participate in this one?

Two answers presented themselves: 1. She was distracting him from something else and 2. She liked what she was hearing. They weren't, he acknowledged, mutually exclusive.

It wasn't the second reason, at least not on its own, he decided. Teresa Lisbon wasn't the type to take advantage of someone whose judgment might be impaired, and she had no use for fairy tales.

Damn, he couldn't believe he'd told her she'd get married by an Elvis impersonator. Well, at least that should have prevented her from taking any of the rest of it seriously. He bet that if she ever did marry, it would be under the auspices of a priest.

Besides, he wanted her stone cold sober when she promised to love and cherish him.

He shook his head, then instantly regretted it. He needed to stop daydreaming and focus. He had a mountain of new information about McAllister to sort through and other suspects to check out. And time was of the essence, because Red John wasn't going to sit back and wait for him to get his act together. He'd already marked Lisbon and killed Sophie; Jane shuddered to think what he'd do next.

"Morning, Sunshine," Lisbon called out as she came down the stairs fully dressed. He was disappointed that she'd pulled her hair back today, but maybe it was for the best. He was fast developing a fetish about her hair, and having strands of it temptingly in reach wouldn't help him focus.

"Good morning," he responded, forcing cheer into his voice. "Thanks for the couch."

"Well, the last time you combined alcohol and the office, you nearly burned the place down," she said. "I figured this was safer. How're you feeling?"

"Right as rain. It takes much more than a bottle of high-end wine to impair my faculties," he said breezily. "I don't suppose you have any eggs for me to work with?"

"There might be," she shrugged. "Check the date on the carton, though." She headed for the coffeemaker to refill her mug.

He managed to get up without betraying any stiffness—really, she had terrible taste in couches—and went to investigate his breakfast options. The lone, forlorn egg sat in a carton with a sell-by date from last year, and he looked sadly at it before deciding that, while he might risk it for himself, he was not willing to subject himself to a cranky Lisbon with food poisoning. Her freezer was completely empty except for some ice trays, which led him to peek at the trash after she left the room. Yes, the bag of stir fry vegetables was there, resting on some meat that was too badly freezer burned to be easily identifiable. He grinned.

"Allow me to escort you to my favorite diner," he said, joining her back in the living room. Bringing her groceries would be an excellent idea next time he wanted an excuse to check on her, he noted.

"On one condition," she said.

"Which is?"

"You tell me what you're thinking about McAllister."

"I assure you that as soon as I draw any conclusions, you will be the first to know." He gave her his cheekiest grin, the one guaranteed to annoy her.

She folded her arms and gave him a glare. It made him realize it was the first time she'd actually looked him in the eye since she came downstairs, which set his internal alarms ringing. Had he said something he didn't remember? Or was she just worried he was going to tease her about wedding plans again?

"Tell me what you're thinking," she insisted.

I'm thinking you're beautiful when you're angry, he managed not to say. "I'm thinking I'm starving and you are woefully unprepared to host overnight guests. Do you even have a tea bag in this place?"

"As a matter of fact, I do. But you don't get it until I get some answers."

He couldn't resist whining a little. "But Lisbon, I need tea to think properly."

"Then you should be highly motivated to tell me whatever thoughts you managed to have before marinating your brain in red wine yesterday," she replied tartly.

He loved it when she was snarky, but right now he really needed tea. He quickly reviewed his options. He could stop pretending to be chipper and make her aware he was in pain; that would soften her. He could resume teasing her, which would fluster and distract her. He could take her face in his hands and kiss her breathless, but that would probably get him punched. Or otherwise spiral out of his control.

_Focus, Paddy,_ he told himself sternly. He'd throw her a bone, and he'd make sure to wince enough that she'd feel bad about badgering him. "He's got the stomach for killing, and he's stealthy and devious. I'm not counting him out."

"Great," she sighed.

"Tea, Lisbon?" he prompted hopefully.

"Fine." She went back into the kitchen, and he grimaced as he heard the microwave start. Either she didn't own a tea kettle, or she was torturing him.

The cup of tea she brought him was drinkable, but only just. He swallowed it anyway, hoping it would clear his head. "I'd still like to buy you breakfast," he said. "It seems the least I can do."

"Okay," she said, doing her best to seem indifferent. It didn't fool him, though; there was a certain speculation in her gaze, which meant she was trying to figure something out. It couldn't be case related, or she'd just ask him. It was only the personal topics that made her start giving him sidelong glances when she thought he wasn't looking.

Hm. Maybe Rigsby and Van Pelt's wedding had made her give more thought to her own daydreams. That could only be a good thing. He'd never met anyone more selfless than Saint Teresa, and it was high time she devoted some thought to herself.

They were silent on the drive to his favorite diner, to which he was strangely touched to realize she didn't need directions. They settled in his favorite booth, and he waved away the menus the waitress tried to give them and ordered his favorite meal, then the meal Lisbon secretly wanted but wouldn't let herself have.

"I wanted a muffin," she grumbled as the waitress moved off.

"No, you didn't. You wanted bacon and home fries, because you never fix them at home. Ditto for the omelette. I guarantee you'll love it."

She abandoned the argument. "Tell me why you think McAllister has the stomach for killing."

"He's a hunter who skins his kills. But please, let's not talk about that over breakfast. How much time off did you give the happy couple?"

"Not enough to go to Bali," she replied, surprising him. Then she absolutely stunned him by adding, "Not that they wanted to, any more than I do. They spent last night in Napa and are coming home today. They'll be back in the office tomorrow."

"You don't want to go to Bali?" He couldn't help himself; he had to know why she'd brought it up.

"No. I don't know how it escaped your notice, keen observer that you claim to be, but I'm far too fair-skinned to tan. I can't go to the beach without gallons of sunscreen, and I don't like swimming with sea creatures. I prefer to do my swimming in a pool."

He grinned. "Of course you do. Because you swim laps for exercise rather than splashing around for fun. I should have known. Let me guess: the honeymoon destination you've always dreamed of is about as far from a deserted beach as it gets. You'd want things to do to fill your time, because you wouldn't want to stay in bed all day no matter how fantastic the sex is. That would be far too decadent for someone as industrious as you. It would be someplace you've never been, someplace that caught your imagination as a child. Ah! The Old Country, of course. Ireland. A series of bed and breakfasts while you drive around the island."

"Hah. Wrong." Her eyes lit with triumph at having stymied him.

"I was close, though. Definitely Ireland. Ah! A castle." This dream was from her girlhood, after all, before she'd been forced to grow up too fast. He bet she'd stopped dreaming about castles and weddings after her mother died.

He could see the denial on her lips, but fortunately the waitress intervened, bringing his tea and her coffee, so he didn't have to call her out for lying to him.

Lisbon took a sip of her coffee, closed her eyes in bliss, and then said, "Have you been to Bali?"

"Alas, no. I hear it's beautiful though."

He watched in fascination as she decided not to ask a question, then said, "And there is no way in hell I am ever getting married by an Elvis impersonator. I'm not fond of Las Vegas, either."

"Neither am I," he murmured. "But perhaps your groom is. Maybe he's a huge Elvis fan and you decided to indulge him."

She smirked. "No, he's not."

"How do you know if you haven't met him yet?" He was careful not to let his puzzlement show.

"Because I have met him," she replied. "Obviously."

"Oh?"

"Sure. I only know one man who would be willing to devote his Sunday morning to menu planning. You were a little obvious there," she said, shrugging.

He frantically replayed that part of his rambling in his mind. Oh, shit. He'd gotten sloppy with his pronouns. But...why had she brought it up? She should be ignoring it, or at least blushing.

She took another sip of coffee and continued, "If you're determined to marry me off to Kendall Walker, I guess I should just get used to the idea. You have a way of getting what you want. And he's not bad looking. I assume you can hypnotize him to lose that slight facial tic."

He was glad he hadn't attempted to sip his tea, or he'd have sprayed it all over the table. "Walker from Organized Crime? He cooks?"

"Oh, yes. He's been taking classes. It's all he talks about." She frowned, obviously acting. "What, you didn't mean him after all? Then who on earth were you talking about?"

Oh, the little minx. She'd set him up, either in revenge for his teasing her, or in hopes of making him talk about the Red John suspects in a desperate attempt to change the subject. He was tempted, oh so tempted, to admit the truth, if only to call her bluff.

But she was talking again, apparently worried he might do just that. "I hate to tell you this, but it can't be Ron. Rank issues, you know. I'm not opposed to you doing the ceremony if you insist, but I hope you study a little beforehand so Grace doesn't have to feed you your lines."

Ah. His mock threat to marry her off had prompted this, not his babbling about the wedding. "I think I would prefer not to. We both know you'd rather be married by a priest."

"Yes. But I don't want a church wedding."

"A church wedding doesn't have to be big."

"Yes, but I'd like you to be there, and I'm always afraid you're going to be struck by lightning when we're in a church."

He chuckled. "The odds of that happening inside are vanishingly small."

"Not if you're being struck down by a fed-up deity," she grinned.

"Oh please. I'm sure your prayers have bought me some leniency." He was delighted when she blushed and dropped her eyes, as if she thought it was a secret she prayed for him.

Their food arrived, and he dug into his eggs with relish. Lisbon pushed her food around for a moment before succumbing to the smell of the bacon. He watched her surreptitiously, enjoying the way she relished the meal. She could use some feeding up. Maybe, when he brought her groceries, he would cook something for her. That would give him an excuse to spend an entire evening watching over her. If he drank something, he could even wrangle his way onto her couch for the night again.

Hm. Maybe he should by her a new couch first. The logistics of that would present a nice challenge. He could lift her key and copy it—

No. He had to stop being distracted by all the things he wanted to do with Lisbon. He had to kill Red John first, and soon, because she was in danger. That was what he needed to focus on.

'You haven't told me what you thought of McAllister," he remarked.

She looked surprised. "He had kind of a creepy vibe, but he's not my first pick for deranged serial killer. I can't really see him seducing Lorelei, for one thing. Unless he's very different in private."

"Hm. Good point. Of course, it's almost certain we never see the side of Red John that his followers do," he mused.

"How can we hope to find him if he's such a good actor then? What are we looking for?" She sounded anxious again, like she had in the hospital. He wished he could touch her to calm her.

Her phone rang, and his heart sank as she answered it. It was immediately obvious they were up, so he waved the waitress over and asked for the check.

"Red John?" he asked quietly.

"No, thank God. Shooting," she replied in the same tone.

The waitress handed him the check, and he pulled out his wallet and handed her cash, telling her to keep the change. Her smile of thanks as she calculated her generous tip contained relief, and he wondered if her son was sick again. He'd come back tomorrow and find out.

Lisbon was already sliding out of the booth, so he took another quick bite of eggs and sip of tea, then did the same, gesturing for her to precede him. But instead, she stepped close, laying a hand on his upper arm and looking up at him with her beautiful, honest eyes. "Jane?"

He swallowed hard. He couldn't imagine anything he'd deny her if she asked in that soft, sweet voice. "Yes?"

"If I get married, you'll be there, won't you?" She seemed to actually be in doubt.

"Of course, Lisbon. I wouldn't miss it for the world," he assured her. He intended to be getting married as well, because there was no way he would ever let anyone else steal her heart. He might not be able to claim it yet, but it was his, and they both knew it even if they couldn't say the words.

As they walked to the car, he pondered the look in her eyes and wondered if she needed more reassurance than the flip answer he'd given. He had resolved to be less secretive and controlling, hadn't he?

"So," he said when they were settled in the car and she was distracted by maneuvering out of the parking lot, "this wedding of yours. How did it come about? What's the proposal story?"

"You'd have to ask Kendall," she replied, trying to be serious. But he knew she was teasing him. Well, he wasn't going to waste his jealousy on Kendall Walker, who was far too average for his fierce Lisbon.

"Walker would do the jumbotron. Too pedestrian," he said.

"Hey, at least that means he took me to a game," she replied. "And don't you dare tell him some preposterous story about how he needs to rent a yacht or something. You know I hate boats."

He chuckled. "No boats, I promise."

"Good. And no helicopters or singing telegrams or anything that's going to make me want to kill you."

"Very well. If he asks me, I'll advise him to take you for a walk in the park at sunset where you can watch people playing frisbee with their dogs, then go to a little jazz club with dim lighting where he can play with your hair while you snuggle up to him. Then you'll go for a stroll down one of those streets with the little white lights in the trees, and he'll find a quiet corner to kiss you and tell you how beautiful you are. Then he'll get down on one knee, because it's traditional, and hold up a ring and smile when your eyes go big and round." He felt something squeeze at his heart as he pictured it.

Lisbon said breathlessly, "And what will he say?" She had stopped the car, even though there was no traffic preventing her from pulling onto the street, and was looking at him with huge eyes.

He swallowed. "He'll say: You are all the beauty in my life, and I want to spend every moment making you as happy as possible. Teresa Lisbon, will you do me the tremendous honor of marrying me?"

She stared at him, not even breathing, until someone behind them honked. Lisbon jumped, sending the car lurching forward, and swore under her breath as she tried to get her mind back on driving.

Jane forced himself to relax as she drove, waiting until they were safely stopped at a red light before asking gently, "And what do you say?"

"What?" she asked, not looking at him.

"To the proposal. What do you say?" He thought it was even odds she'd make a sarcastic remark or refuse to play along any further. But he had to try. He hoped she understood.

She swallowed hard, then took a deep breath. "Yes," she whispered, so softly he barely heard her.

He turned to look out his window before letting the smile take over his face. Some good had come of his babbling after all. She could no longer doubt his intentions, however long they had to wait before he was free to act on them.

And she'd said yes.


	3. Consummation

**Author's Note: **A guest reviewer for Facing Facts pointed me to the Blue Heaven behind the scenes photos and worried it meant Jane was leaving Lisbon again. I thought about it and decided to work it out in this universe. So I'm finally admitting this is a multi-chapter. I refuse to estimate the number of chapters after my epic fail doing that for In the Cards, but this won't be another novel. I skip over who Red John is and how he dies because that's not the point of this story, and because I'm lazy. Just fill in the blanks with whatever makes you happy. :)

**Chapter 3: Consummation**

As Red John's body was hauled off, Lisbon looked up from giving her statement to the local cops who were trying to get in on the action and realized Jane had disappeared into the twilight. A spurt of panic sent her further into the woods, crashing through the brush and swinging her flashlight around until she found him sitting beside the small stream, looking blankly at the water and fiddling with his wedding ring. Part of her wanted to sit down beside him and join him in his quiet contemplation, but she knew she couldn't.

"Jane," she said gently, kneeling beside him. "Jane, do you hear me?"

"I'm not deaf, Lisbon," he replied, his voice almost normal but his expression distant.

"Good. If you won't come back with me, I need you to stay right here until I'm ready to leave. Okay? Don't run off. Stay right here."

He finally met her eyes. "Why are you talking to me like I'm a three-year-old?" he asked, more curious than offended.

"Because I think you might be in shock," she replied, still in her most gentle voice.

"I'm not in shock."

She refrained from rolling her eyes with a heroic effort. "Okay then. Because you have a habit of wandering off, and you might be in danger from any disciples who might be looking for a chance at revenge." Some of whom might be cops, judging from experience.

"Ah. True." He let out a sigh, then got to his feet. "I'll come with you, then."

He followed her back to the scene, but before she could get more than a sentence out, Jane interrupted her. "Let's go, Lisbon. Cho can handle this."

"I just need a minute, Jane." She eyed him warily; he was restless and fidgety, a very bad sign.

"Then give me your keys. You can ride back with the others."

There was no way in hell she was letting him run off on his own. "Just one minute, Jane, please," she said, sticking her hand in her jacket pocket so he couldn't lift her keys.

Cho and Rigsby were standing close enough to hear what was going on. Cho said, "We got this, Boss."

"Are you sure?" She was torn. But Cho had seen everything she had, and she couldn't delegate looking after Jane.

"Yeah. You guys go on." Cho was looking at Jane like he was a bomb that might go off at any moment. She couldn't blame him.

"Okay. Thanks." She headed for the car, Jane following so closely he was almost stepping on her heels.

"Where to?" she asked once they were safely on the road. She didn't want to take him to the office; he'd just get in his car and vanish. She didn't know why she was so convinced he was about to run, but she wasn't going to take the risk.

"I don't care. Just...away from here." He looked out the window, becoming lost in his thoughts again.

The only safe, private place she could think of was home, so that's where she drove. Jane didn't seem to know or care until she turned off the car engine; then he looked around. "I need my car," he said.

"Later," she replied. "Come in for a drink first. We should at least toast the fact that we're rid of the bastard." If she could get him talking, maybe it would all be okay. Maybe she could at least figure out where he was planning to go, if he even knew himself.

She could feel the nervous energy emanating from him as she fumbled with her keys while unlocking her front door. She was beginning to feel frantic, and that wasn't good. She needed to stay calm if she was going to calm him down.

Leading him into the house, Lisbon closed and locked the door before turning to him. He stood with his back to her, hands clenching and unclenching as he wrestled with some thought. Her heart sank. Could she really stop him if he needed to run? Should she?

"Jane—" she began at the same moment he spun around and grabbed her. She barely had time to gasp in surprise before his mouth landed on hers.

For a few seconds all she was aware of was his tongue sliding against hers, tasting of blueberries. Then her brain kicked in again, and she thought, _Oh good, sex will work off some of his nervous energy._

Then her higher functions came back online and she realized that this might not be the best idea, regardless of what their bodies were saying to each other. But she was too distracted to form a sentence, because he was wrestling her jacket off with more determination than finesse. She decided to help him out, and as it landed on the floor she realized she'd better get her gun off before he tried to treat it so carelessly. But reaching for it left him easy access to her blouse buttons, which he undid in record time, finishing just as she managed to set her gun on the little table beside the door.

"We shouldn't—" she managed to say, but had to stop as he got the front clasp on her bra undone and replaced the fabric with his hands.

"Oh, we absolutely should," he breathed, just before he fastened his mouth to one breast, removing her ability to form words altogether.

mmm

When Lisbon woke up the next morning, it took her a moment to remember why her muscles ached. Then she smiled, a little amazed at the unaccustomed sensation of happiness. She felt almost high from the wild night, every inch of her body sated—except for her stomach. Dinner hadn't been on the agenda, after all.

Jane was lying facedown beside her, one hand splayed on her stomach as he slept. She wondered if she could get up without disturbing him. He certainly deserved to sleep in after his exertions, she reflected. Besides, she wasn't entirely sure that he wouldn't get up, get dressed, promise to send her a postcard, and call a cab to vanish from her life, leaving this night as her fondest memory of him.

What did he have to stay for now, after all? Surely he'd want to get away, go start fresh as she'd told him to do when they met. Why stay where everything and everyone would remind him of his quest for vengeance, and by extension his grief and loss? She'd run from her past as fast and far as she could the moment she got the chance, so she understood.

She just really, really didn't want him to go. The thought of the massive hole he would leave in her life was devastating. At least when he'd left for Vegas she'd had some vague hope of seeing him again, daydreams of closing the Red John case and tracking him down to tell him the good news. Of bringing him home and getting him cleaned up for the trial. Of reconnecting with each other so well that he just never got around to leaving again.

She looked over at him again, only to find him looking back. He smiled sleepily and murmured, "Good morning."

The hoarseness of his voice reminded her of how he'd yelled her name in the darkness, and she felt herself blushing. Of course that only made him smile wider. "Good morning," she replied.

"You're thinking sad thoughts. Stop it," he said, scooting closer so he could reach across her and play with her hair.

"I just—I know you want to leave." She was proud of herself for finding the guts to say it, but she wished her voice hadn't trembled.

He hummed a little in response. Then he sighed, tucking his face against her arm. "I need to go think about things. Figure things out. Do some of the things I've put on hold."

"I know. And I want you to. I just don't... Please don't vanish again. At least let me know where you are this time."

He lifted his head, frowning at her. "Of course I will. I'd ask you to come with me if I thought there was a chance you'd say yes."

"Really?" She could hardly believe it. But then, he had to know she wouldn't run away with him. She had responsibilities and people who depended on her.

"Really." He looked amused now. "When I get somewhere, I'll let you know. Maybe you'll come visit. Take a vacation. You know, that thing people do when they get tired of working?"

She made a face at him. "Yeah, yeah. I could probably take one now that I won't have a consultant nobody else can manage." She decided that fair was fair, so she slid a hand into his curls and scratched lightly at his scalp. This was one of the things about him she wanted to remember: how his hair felt between her fingers and how it made him close his eyes in pleasure, then give her a smile that made her insides melt.

"An excellent point," he replied, bending down to press a kiss to her breast. He began working his way across her chest, but paused when her stomach growled.

"Sorry," she said, hoping he wouldn't stop.

"My fault for not letting you out of bed long enough to order a pizza," he chuckled. "I'll feed you breakfast when we're done here. Unless of course you don't have the strength for one more round without nourishment."

She pulled him down to her, wrapping all four limbs around him. "I think I can survive a few more minutes. That's probably all you've got left in you, after all."

"Ooo, a challenge," he mused, thrusting his hips gently against her before pulling back to find her entrance and slide inside. "You should know better."

She smiled up at him as he began to move. "I know how you like to prove me wrong. Besides, you don't need to impress me. I'm already amazed at such stamina at your age."

"You're just looking for trouble, aren't you?" he growled, picking up the pace.

"Just trying to get a few points in before you ride off into the sunset," she replied.

He stopped, surprising her. She shifted her hips, trying to get him to move again, but he just stared down at her like she'd said something shocking. Finally he managed to say, "I'm not leaving you, Lisbon. Not permanently, anyway. How could you think that?"

"I just—you're coming back?"

"Of course I am! We're engaged, after all. It would be hard to get married if I didn't."

"What?" She gaped at him. "We're what?"

"Engaged. Betrothed. Participating in a social contract that generally culminates in marriage."

Her mouth opened and closed as she tried to find words to respond to this latest bit of outrageousness. "We are not!" she spluttered after a moment.

"We most certainly are. I asked you to marry me, and you said yes. It's not something I'm likely to forget." He seemed offended.

She couldn't believe they had stopped having sex to argue about whether they were engaged. It seemed bizarre, even for them. "When?" she demanded.

"The day after Rigsby and Van Pelt got married. You remember. After breakfast, in the car. Admittedly the ambiance left something to be desired, so I'm happy to recreate the experience in a more romantic setting if you like."

"That was—you were just—that was not a proposal!" He had to be teasing her, which was pretty cruel considering he was leaving. "We were talking about Kendall Walker!"

"We were not. And I'd appreciate it if you could refrain from bringing up other men you find attractive while we're having sex." Now he was pretending to be indignant.

"We no longer seem to be having sex," she pointed out. "Maybe we could finish that first and then call a good psychiatrist to address your delusions?"

"I don't know if I want to have sex with you if you're refusing to marry me after you promised to," he retorted. "That's tantamount to breaking up, if I remember correctly."

"How can we break up? We were never together!" Had she woken up in a parallel universe or something? Maybe this was a dream? There had to be an explanation. There was no way that even Jane could hold her to a random conversation that had been purely hypothetical.

"Really? You don't consider the past twelve hours or so being together? You're going to need to explain your rating system to me, Lisbon. It's not at all intuitive."

Okay, he might have a point there. But she had just realized she had a thoroughly unassailable argument against the "we're engaged" theory. "If we're engaged, where's my ring?"

"Downstairs. At least, I think that's where my vest is at the moment. On the stairs, maybe."

She stared at him again. "You're serious." It was beginning to dawn on her that he might be, and if he was, she was handling this all wrong.

"Yes, of course I'm serious, Lisbon!" He rolled away from her with a huff and got out of bed, stalking across the room with no regard for his nudity. She couldn't help but admire the view, both as he left and a few moments later when he returned, holding a diamond ring triumphantly in his hand. "I bought it the day after we got engaged. I just didn't think it was a good idea to give it to you while Red John was stalking us. Here!" He practically thrust it into her face as she sat up.

Well, that's romantic, she managed not to say as she stared helplessly at the ring. It was gorgeous, not too flashy but well-made and expensive looking. It was probably an antique, she thought. Old-fashioned and unique. Just like him.

She suddenly wanted to cry.

"Oh, don't—don't cry, Lisbon," he sighed, dropping his hand and relaxing his posture. "Do you want to back up and go the traditional route, where I take you out to dinner twice a week until we realize there's nothing else to know about each other, and then I pop the question in some romantic location and we start arguing about where we're going to live?"

"Not really. Besides, you're leaving anyway." That was the part she was having trouble with, and it amazed her that he couldn't see it.

"But I'm coming back." He leaned down a little so they could look into each other's eyes more easily. "That's what this means, Lisbon. I'm coming back."

She took a deep breath and tried to calm down. "But you have things to figure out. How do I know that you'll still want this when you're done with that? I know you've been worried about me. While he was out there threatening me, that made you anxious. It doesn't necessarily mean that you love me."

"I know what love is," he snapped. Then he sighed again, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Look. If you don't love me, then fine. Tell me that. But don't tell me that what I'm feeling isn't real."

She looked down, confused and worried she was making irrevocable mistakes without realizing it. The silence was broken only when her stomach growled again.

"Come on," Jane said, holding his hand out to her. "Let's get showered and dressed so we can go find breakfast. We can talk again once we've both had food and caffeine."

She took his hand and got out of bed, cheered slightly by the admiring look he gave her. Other parts of him seemed to be regaining their enthusiasm as well, she noted.

"And in the meantime, allow me to present the menu for our shower time," he said in a ridiculous fake French accent as they walked hand in hand to the bathroom. "There is the angry sex, because we are both frustrated with each other. There is the sex where I try to impress you in hopes you will decide you cannot live without the numerous beautiful orgasms I bring you. And lastly, there is the bittersweet good-bye sex where we are both desperate to prolong it as much as possible because it may be a long time before we have it again. What is Madame's pleasure this morning?"

She shook her head, wishing she could feel lighthearted about any of this. "Jane, there's not a woman in the world who wouldn't choose the second option."

"Excellent choice, Madame. Prepare to become impressed." He handed her into the shower as if she were getting into a carriage, which made her smile despite herself.

mmm

An impressive length of time later, they got out of the shower, dressed, and went to the diner where, according to Jane, they'd gotten engaged pulling out of the parking lot. She wondered where he'd put the ring. She wondered if it would fit.

She wondered if she'd lost her mind. Marriage was something other people did. She was a cop with a ridiculous schedule who could die on the job any day of the week. She wasn't wife material.

"No thinking until we've eaten." Jane shook his finger at her sternly. "You'll always make the wrong choice on an empty stomach."

She sighed. He wasn't wrong. "What should we talk about? Work?"

"Anything but that."

"You should probably give me your resignation before you leave. In case you decide not to come back." She could at least try not to get entangled in a paperwork nightmare.

The waitress brought them their drinks, and Jane took a sip of his tea with a sigh of relief. "I am coming back. Even if you decide not to marry me, I will come back to try to change your mind."

"But not to work at the CBI?"

"That's one of the things I have to figure out. I imagine it will depend on whether we're allowed to work together while married, or whether I think I can change your mind by reminding you how clever I am and how much you like having me around, though you'd rather eat dirt than admit it."

She fiddled with one of her empty sugar packets. "I do like having you around. Why else would I be so unhappy that you're leaving?"

"You could come with me. Nobody can deny that you're due a vacation, Lisbon."

"I thought you needed time alone to think."

"I do."

"And I wouldn't be a distraction?"

He grimaced. "You would be an enormous distraction. But I imagine we could set aside some time to climb out of bed, get dressed, and go to separate rooms to think about our future."

"You're so full of it," she grinned, suddenly struck by how funny his idea was. "You'd go in the next room and think about how long you had to stay in there until you could come interrupt me. You'd do absolutely no thinking with your big head."

He grinned. "True. Maybe we could go on a vacation after I'm all done thinking. Or are you going to make me wait until the honeymoon?"

No matter how this turned out, she realized, a sexy getaway with Jane was not something she wanted to miss out on. "Let me know when you're done thinking and I'll try to get away. Where do you think you'll go? A beach somewhere?"

"I was thinking Mexico, or maybe farther south," he said. "Someplace where I won't have to hear or read about him."

She nodded. That sounded fantastic, actually. She was dreading the cleanup.

"I know my phone might not work there," he added. "But if that's the case, I'll get another one and call you with the number."

"Thank you." She was relieved to know that his idea of keeping in touch went beyond the occasional postcard.

"Lisbon." He reached across the table and took her hand. "This is not me leaving you. I just need to go clear my head, and I can't do that here. Part of me doesn't want to go, because staying here with you would be so much more pleasant. But I know I need to. I need to do this for me, but also for you, because you deserve all the stability I can muster."

"I want you to do what you need to do," she said, making sure to hold eye contact so he could see she was telling him the truth. "But I'll miss you."

"Not half as much as I'll miss you."

The waitress brought their food, and Lisbon tried to lighten the atmosphere after she'd eaten a few bites. "You won't miss me at all. An hour after you land, every single woman in the place will be following you around. And they'll probably be nicer to you than I am."

"True," he said, pretending to seriously consider it. Then he gave her a sober look. "But none of them will love me like you do."

"No," she sighed. It was long past time to admit it, wasn't it? "I can't imagine anyone else ever loving you like I do." Beyond all hope, she thought. All these years, she had loved him without any expectation that it would be returned or lead to anything but grief. No wonder she was a little freaked out that he was talking about marriage. Was it weird to flinch away from her happy ending just because it had taken her so completely by surprise?

Jane looked at her closely for a minute, then pulled the ring out of his vest pocket and handed it to her. "You don't need to wear it," he said. "But I want you to hang onto it. It's my promise that I'm coming back, and that I won't decide I prefer one of these hordes of women you think I attract. In return, I'd like you to seriously think about whether you want to spend the rest of your life with me. We don't need to get married if you object to the institution or something. But I want us to be very clear where we stand with each other. I'm tired of not knowing."

She took the ring, noticing how it sparkled in the sunlight coming through the blinds. "You haven't always known?" she asked, surprised. "I guess I thought you could tell what I was thinking. You always say you can."

"Not always. I knew that you wanted me, but I didn't know if you'd ever allow yourself to have me, whether because of the job, or the fact that I still wear my ring, or some other reason you'd think up."

She'd slept with a man wearing a wedding ring, she realized, her eyes going to it. It was so much a part of him that she hadn't noticed he hadn't taken it off.

"One of the things I need to do is learn how to stop wearing it," he said softly.

"I wish I had something to give you to take with you," she said. "But maybe that would just be a distraction too."

He shook his head. "Let me see you wearing the ring," he said. "I want to see how it looks on your hand. I'll tuck that away in my memory palace and pull it out when I need something to make me happy."

She slid the ring onto her left ring finger, overwhelmed by her emotional reaction to it. Just putting it on felt like a promise.

Jane picked up her hand and smiled as he kissed it. "Thank you. That does make me happy."

She decided to leave it on for the moment. It was probably safer on her hand than in her pocket, after all.

They didn't talk as they finished their meal. When the check came, Lisbon made a valiant grab for it, but Jane snatched it out of her reach. "Consider this a date," he grinned.

When he'd finished paying, they left, walking slowly back to the car. Lisbon felt her heart actually aching as she realized they were getting closer to saying good-bye.

"I think you should drop me off at the gate. I'll get my car and go. I don't really want to see anybody. You'll tell the others I've gone off to think, and I'll send them a postcard, won't you?"

She nodded.

"I know you don't want anybody at CBI knowing we're involved, so we should say good-bye here," he continued.

She nodded again, her throat closing. He walked with her to the driver's side door, where they wouldn't be seen from the diner. Then he slid his hands into her hair and kissed her, lovingly and leisurely, like they had all the time in the world. When the tears began to slide down her cheeks, he wiped them away with his thumbs.

"I'm coming back," he whispered against her lips. "And you can call me. Anytime. For any reason, or no reason at all. I consider myself engaged to you, so I want to know what's happening in your life. All right?"

"Okay," she whispered. "Call me, or text me, so I know you're somewhere safe tonight."

"I will. Tonight and every night until I see you again, I'll let you know I'm safe."

She put her arms around him and hugged, trying to breathe rather than sob. He held her for a few minutes, then pulled back to look at her.

"I love you," he said solemnly.

"I love you too," she managed to choke out, trying to smile.

He kissed her again, then opened the car door for her. Once they were in the car, he reached for her hand and didn't let go until they had reached the CBI building.

"I'll be back before you know it," he assured her, smiling as he opened the door.

"I'll miss you," she replied, blinking back a fresh wave of tears so she wouldn't lose her last sight of him. "Be safe."

"You too." He closed the car door and gave her a little wave, smiling confidently.

But when she looked in her rearview mirror as she drove on, she saw his expression change to the same one she was sure was on her face. _Come home soon, _she thought.

She parked and took the ring off. She couldn't wear it at work, but she wanted to keep it close, so she tucked it in her pocket. She would keep it with her as a reminder that he'd promised to come back, but she wouldn't consider it an engagement ring until he actually did.

And if he did, she hoped, she'd be ready to give him the answer he wanted.


	4. Reunion

**Author's Note: **Wow, thanks to all of you who welcomed the continuation of this story! It seems I'm not the only one who needs a way to reconcile spoilers with my Jisbon wishes. This chapter continues that, though I'm sure when the new characters debut, I'll be proven laughably wrong. But until then, this is how I'm pretending it's going to go!

**Chapter 4: Reunion**

Six weeks later, Jane was taking his morning post-swim walk up the beach toward his little rented villa when he was hailed by one of the resort's staff members. "Señor, a lady is looking for you. She was pretty and she had a badge, so I told her which villa you are in."

His heart leapt. It was the oddest sensation, a feeling he'd almost completely forgotten: joy. "Thanks, Jorge!"

He quickened his pace, all thoughts of a leisurely stroll gone. He couldn't believe he was only moments from seeing Lisbon again, and now that their separation was almost over he keenly felt how much he'd missed the sight of her. She hadn't mentioned anything about coming down when they'd spoken on the phone last night, but maybe she'd wanted to surprise him. That explained why she'd seemed distracted and cut the call short. He was relieved to know she wasn't sick or overworked, as he'd thought.

Rapidly revising his plans for the day, he began to think about what she would most enjoy. He had to find out how long she was here for and begin wrapping up his own stay so he could go back with her, because he never wanted to say good-bye to her again. All he wanted to do, he realized, was kiss her dimples and sink into her luscious body. His heart rate increased beyond what his near-jog necessitated, and he grinned in anticipation.

He stopped short when he realized the woman sitting on the edge of the villa's porch was not Teresa Lisbon. She was a stranger, but she smiled like she knew him as she stood. "Patrick Jane," she greeted him. "You're a hard man to find."

"That's on purpose," he replied, ignoring her outstretched hand. He'd told only Lisbon where he was, and he was pretty sure she hadn't told this woman, whoever she was. "I'm on vacation."

"And I would have waited for you to get back, but no one seemed to have any idea of when that might be," she replied.

"I assume you're here on business, then." He folded his arms and waited. She was definitely a cop; she had the posture. Her accent indicated she was from somewhere in Texas, probably someplace urban. That struck him as odd, because the only thing the FBI could want to talk to him about was Red John, who had nothing to do with Texas as far as he knew.

"I'm afraid so. Special Agent Kim Fischer, FBI." She held up her badge.

"And what can I do for you today, Special Agent Fischer?" He thought about inviting her inside, but he wanted to get this over with. He couldn't help hating her a little her for not being Lisbon. He felt like someone had offered him a treat and then snatched it away, and he wanted to get rid of her and then see if he could get back to Sacramento today.

"Can we go inside? This won't take long." She gave him a friendly smile. "But I sure could use a drink of water."

"All right." He unlocked the door and waited for her to enter, then gestured to the only chair in the front room while he went into the tiny kitchen to get her a bottle of water.

"Nice place," she remarked as he handed it to her. "Are you planning to stay?"

"No. Now, what does the FBI want with me, Special Agent Fischer? You've been watching me for nearly a decade now; surely there's nothing more you need to know?"

She grimaced a little. "The information we were receiving on you was not exactly official, Mr. Jane. And from what I've heard of you, I doubt the most interesting things ever made it into the reports, anyway. Certainly not all you know about Red John."

"I know he's dead," Jane said pleasantly, taking a seat on the small sofa and relaxing his body language. "That's all I care about. If you're interested in the details of the case, I suggest you talk to Lisbon."

"I have, of course," she replied. "But although she offered to tell me anything I needed to know, she was very reluctant to talk about you and your methods. She's protected you a lot over the years, hasn't she? A hard habit to break, I guess."

"Well, you know. Partners." He smiled at her, knowing the deep meaning most cops assigned to that word. "I won't talk about her to you either, so I hope that's not what you came here for."

"It seems that Red John had quite a network, and it's still operating. So they've brought in some outsiders like me to try to root it out. But so far we haven't had a lot of luck identifying any of its members. I hoped you might have some insight."

"The ones I knew about are all dead," Jane said. "Sorry."

"Did you have any suspects you weren't able to rule out?" She seemed unfazed by his lack of interest.

"Lisbon knew all the people I wasn't sure about. Didn't she tell you?"

"She gave me a list, yes. But I wasn't sure you weren't holding out on her."

"She knows everything," Jane asserted, which wasn't quite true, but true enough for the FBI. He owed them nothing, after all.

"So you never suspected her, or any member of her team?"

Jane laughed before he could stop himself. The idea of Lisbon, of all people, in league with a serial killer and leading a double life was the funniest thing he'd heard in ages.

Fischer gave him a sharp look. "If anyone accused my partner of being dirty, I wouldn't laugh about it."

"Accuse her of whatever you like. You'll never find anything to pin on her because she is completely innocent."

"Nobody is completely innocent," Fischer replied. "She's done some dubious things on your behalf, to say the least. Like at least one illegal wiretapping instance we've been able to prove. Who knows what else we'll find?"

The FBI was investigating Lisbon? That was a whole new level of insanity, even for a federal agency, he thought. "Waste your time if you like. You won't find Red John's network through Lisbon."

"What about her team?"

"They are loyal to Lisbon. And to each other. They wouldn't let anything get in the way of that." If one of them was dirty, they'd all have to be. Cho was the only one of them he could imagine sustaining any secret identity, but Jane was convinced it would turn out to be that of a best-selling mystery writer rather than a Red John disciple. Or, much more interestingly, a romance novelist. Yes, that would be satisfyingly amusing. He fought the urge to smirk.

"And what about you?" Fischer asked.

"What about me? You can't possibly think I ever had any connection with Red John."

"No, but maybe you're loyal to Lisbon. Maybe loyal enough to help her cover up her past sins now that the killer himself is dead."

Jane shook his head. "Lisbon had nothing to do with Red John, except trying to catch him. I have no great capacity for forgiveness, Agent Fischer. If I had found out she helped the man who murdered my family, I assure you she'd be in prison." If he hadn't wrung her beautiful neck in a fit of insanity and betrayal, ending up either in a mental institution or a coffin himself. He suppressed a shudder, glad that Red John had been obsessed with Blake's poetry rather than, say, Othello. "I advise you to take a long, hard look at how Lisbon came to be a focus of your investigation. The person or persons who developed that theory did so to protect someone else, or to waste your time."

"You seem very sure of Agent Lisbon," Fischer remarked.

"I am. I read people for a living, Agent Fischer."

"And what is your take on me?"

Jane smiled thinly. "I'm on vacation. And frankly I'd like to get on with it."

"Of course. Thank you for your time, Mr. Jane. I hope we'll meet again."

_If you're harassing Lisbon, I guarantee we will. But you won't enjoy it, _he thought, even as he smiled and stood up to escort her to the door. "Have a safe trip home, Agent Fischer."

"Thanks. Enjoy your vacation, Mr. Jane."

When she was gone, he picked up his phone, tempted to call Lisbon. He was a little irked that she hadn't seen fit to mention she was being investigated by the FBI, but then, knowing her, she hadn't wanted to interrupt his vacation. He was supposed to be doing some hard thinking, after all, and minimizing distractions.

The problem was, he'd mostly been surfing, swimming, and napping. He hadn't had any epiphanies, though he had managed to leave his wedding ring safely tucked away in his suitcase for the past three weeks. And he'd decided to sell the Malibu house, since he couldn't imagine living there again. His life was in Sacramento now, even if he didn't go back to work at CBI. He would find an apartment there, or maybe a house if Lisbon decided they could live together.

Should he stay until he'd finished what he came to do? The other things he needed to decide all hinged on Lisbon in one way or another. Staying away from her was hindering that, not helping.

No. He'd leave today. He wanted to see her—needed to see her. There was no point in putting off their future, whatever it turned out to be, a single day longer.

mmm

Since he didn't care how much he spent, he was able to land in Sacramento in the late afternoon. Retrieving his car, he went straight to Lisbon's place even though it was far too early for her to be home. He would just pick the lock and surprise her. She might even be so glad to see him that she would forget to threaten to shoot him. He grinned in anticipation.

He'd just gotten started on the lock when the door swung open and the barrel of a gun appeared in his face. Before he could react, it snapped upward out of his line of vision as Lisbon gasped, "Jane?"

"Hi honey, I'm home," he managed to say, straightening up and grinning at her.

"You ever hear of knocking?" she demanded, setting the gun down on the table beside the door. Then she threw her arms around him and hugged him, hard.

He hugged back, burying his face in her hair. After the first euphoric moment, he realized it didn't smell as nice as usual, and he could feel tangles against his cheek. Pulling back, he took in her baggy sweatshirt with surprise. Was she sick? "What are you doing home at this hour?" he asked.

He felt her sag in his arms and was shocked to recognize that she was telegraphing shame. It wasn't something he was used to seeing on her. Not illness, then. Pregnant? The thought stunned him, making it difficult to breathe. The timing was right, and he hadn't given any thought to contraception during their night together, too focused on trying to lose himself in her and celebrate the fact that Red John was dead, they were both alive, and he wasn't going to jail. He'd known for years that Lisbon was on the pill, but it was possible she'd gone off it, or been taking it erratically as the case heated up. He had been distracted enough that he might not have noticed.

"I'm taking a mental health day. I just couldn't face things," she muttered, looking down.

He brought up his hand to tilt her chin up so he could look at her face again. She wasn't sick, and he didn't think she was concealing pregnancy, but her explanation made no sense to him. Lisbon didn't take mental health days.

As he watched, her expression slowly blossomed into another unfamiliar one: happiness. She beamed at him and said softly, "I'm so glad to see you."

"Oh good. I was beginning to wonder, since you haven't invited me in," he teased.

Flustered, she grabbed his arm to pull him inside, and he barely managed to grab his suitcase before she closed the door. As he took her in from a few steps away, he spotted something that made his heart do that weird leaping thing. "You're wearing the ring."

She blushed. "I wear it when I'm missing you."

He felt he would never stop grinning. "And now that I'm back?"

She shrugged, trying and failing to be casual. "I've kind of gotten used to it. I've missed you a lot."

"Not half as much as I missed you," he assured her, closing the distance between them and pulling her into his arms for a long, deep kiss.

Her hands roamed over his back, then his shoulders, then his chest, leaving trails of heat through his thin shirt. When they parted to catch their breaths, she said, "You look good. You got some sun, and you've been working out."

"I did a lot of swimming," he replied, nibbling on her neck.

"Oh, I haven't had a shower today," she said, as if just realizing it. "I'm a mess."

"You look, smell, and taste fantastic," he responded, "but I'm happy to assist with any showering you deem necessary."

She buried her face in his neck. "I'm so glad to see you."

Her voice was muffled, but he heard the emotion in it. He stopped his exploration of her jawline and shifted his embrace to a comforting one, rubbing her back and resting his cheek against her hair, tamping down his reaction to discovering she wasn't wearing a bra. She had obviously been having a rough time, and he knew full well he was the person she usually talked to about things that were bothering her. He wished she'd called him, but she'd only done so once, late at night and obviously after a nightmare. He hadn't been able to disguise the fact that he'd been asleep, and she hadn't called again. She had tried so hard to give him the time he needed, to her own detriment, he now realized. Well, he would make it up to her.

"Don't worry," he said. "I told the FBI they were on the wrong track. Hopefully they'll find something more useful to do with their time than harass you. And if not, I'll find them a better wild goose to chase."

She pulled back to look at him, her eyes watery and the crease back between her eyebrows. "You talked to the FBI? When?"

"This morning. Some woman from Texas with a lot of wrongheaded ideas that I can only assume someone fed her."

The happiness had faded out of her face, replaced with disappointment. "You came back because she told you I was in trouble?"

"She didn't tell me that, at least not in so many words. I'm a little upset that you didn't tell me, though. I told you I wanted to know what was going on in your life, didn't I?" He began finger-combing her hair.

"I didn't want you to feel like you needed to come back. I wanted you to decide to come back because you were ready. Not any other reason," she said sadly.

"I didn't come back because I thought you needed my help," he said. "Although I would have. I came back because when I heard a pretty lady with a badge was looking for me, I assumed it was you. I was so excited, really happy. And then I was so disappointed that it was someone else. It made me realize I was tired of being without you."

"But did you figure things out? Do what you needed to?" She searched his face, her eyes dark with concern.

"Yes. Most of it. The rest, we'll figure out together." He kissed her lightly. "The first and most important of which is whether we're getting married."

She dropped her gaze under his scrutiny. "I'm not sure I know how to be married."

"You just be yourself. I don't want you to change, Lisbon. Not in any way. I just want to know that we belong to each other, and for everyone else to know it too." He stroked her hair again, smiling at her.

"That's all you want?" She seemed doubtful.

"Yes. No cooking or cleaning or fetching of slippers required. I'll put it into the wedding vows if you like."

She seemed reassured for a moment, but almost immediately frowned again. "Where will we live?"

"Here, if you want. Someplace a little bigger if you prefer. Maybe a snug little house with a beautiful garden? Or the penthouse suite in the luxury apartment building closest to the office. I don't care, as long as we both agree on it."

"But we don't get married in Vegas," she said firmly. "No Elvis impersonators."

"We'll have a small wedding at your church, and then I'll whisk you off to Ireland," he promised, thrilled by the progress they were making. "Just don't make me wait too long, please."

"I don't want to rush into anything," she said, stepping back and running a hand through her hair.

Ah, there was his skittish Lisbon. "We've known each other ten years, Lisbon. I hardly call that rushing."

"And yet we still call each other by our last names. That hardly argues that we're ready for marriage."

She had that mulish look on her face, and he wanted to kiss it off her. "Habit, my dear. Easily corrected with a bit of effort. I am happy to call you Teresa from now on. So, Teresa, tell me what's been going on with you. I want to hear everything, and then I'd like to take you out for a nice dinner." He put his arms around her again and slid his hands under her sweatshirt, disturbed that he could feel her ribs. "You haven't been sick, have you?"

"No. I'm fine. I've just been busy," she said, rolling her eyes a bit.

"And I haven't been here to make you eat," he sighed, feeling guilty. He hadn't fully thought through what his absence would mean for her, and he wished he'd come back sooner. But at least she seemed okay. She had a dangerous job, after all; she could have been badly hurt while he was gone, a fact he'd ignored for his own sanity.

"I can feed myself, Jane. I haven't been starving."

"You've lost weight. You're sure you haven't been sick?" As she shook her head, he decided to push his luck. "Are you pregnant?"

"No!" she said firmly. Then she sighed a little. "I took a pregnancy test a while ago. I was late, and tired, and I thought maybe that was why. But it was negative. My period started the next day."

"Then we'll have wine with our dinner," he said.

She looked at him nervously. "Do you...want kids?"

Jane suppressed a sigh. This was far too heavy a conversation to have standing in her living room, but skirting the issue would only make her more skittish. "Let's sit down," he said.

"Oh. Yes, of course. Do you want some tea?" She half turned toward the kitchen, flustered.

"In a moment," he replied, taking her hand and pulling her over to the couch. She sat down beside him, watching his face anxiously. He drew her close, encouraging her to snuggle into his side. "I am already a father. Charlotte's father. I always will be. And having failed her in the worst way possible, I'm not sure I want to try again."

Her hand slid around his waist, offering a comforting hug.

"That being said," he continued, "if we do conceive, I will love our child and do my very best to be a good father." He pressed a kiss into her hair. "I know you're conflicted about it yourself. We don't need to decide now. Just know that I will never pressure you, one way or the other."

She turned her face into his shoulder. "But I want to give you the things you want," she said slowly. "I want you to be happy."

"I will be happy, as long as you're with me. That's all I need." He pulled her closer, reveling in her warmth and the way she nestled against him so trustingly.

He was just trying to figure out if she'd fallen asleep when she said quietly, "I don't believe in divorce. If we get married, it has to be forever."

"Absolutely," he murmured. "Are you sleepy, sweetheart? Because if we're going to have a nap—an excellent idea, by the way—I'd prefer to do it in bed."

"Mmm," was her only response.

Jane smiled, then shifted her into his lap so he could swing his legs up on the couch and settle them both comfortably for a nice long nap.

mmm

Jane managed to sleep for an hour or so; then he was forced to disturb Lisbon so he could get up and visit the bathroom. When he returned, she was sitting up, blinking and trying to wake up fully. He wondered if she was fighting off a mild virus or something, because she didn't seem quite herself. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Fine. I just didn't have my coffee this morning," she replied.

Ah. That explained it. "Why don't I brew you a cup. Then you can hop in the shower, get dressed, and I'll take you to dinner."

She blinked up at him. "Okay."

Fortunately, Lisbon's coffeemaker was easy to use, so he set it to work and then got started on his tea. They drank their beverages on the couch, leaning companionably against each other, and then she reluctantly went upstairs. Jane made himself a second cup of tea, deciding he would choose where to eat based on what she chose to wear. If she came down in jeans, he'd take her to her favorite burger place; if she went dressier, he'd finagle a table at the fancy Italian place she'd secretly always wanted to try.

He pulled a jacket and vest out of his bag, then dug Lisbon's iron and ironing board out of the closet to make himself presentable. He was grateful he'd taken the time to shave this morning, though he knew she didn't mind a little stubble.

He was just finishing ironing his jacket when her cell began ringing, and he glanced at it where it lay on the coffee table. It was Cho, so he decided to answer it. "Cho! How are you this fine day?"

"Jane." Cho's voice didn't betray any surprise, but the slight pause that followed gave him away. "Since you're answering Lisbon's phone, that means either you're back or you've convinced her to run off with you."

"The first, though I plan to work on the second," Jane said. "I take it there's some kind of emergency, since you know she's home sick?"

"I just wanted to give her a heads up that the FBI is looking for her again. Has she told you about that?"

"The FBI beat her to it. How bad is it?"

"Pretty bad. They're dredging up every questionable thing we ever did tracking down Red John. Did she tell you about the guy who tried to kill her last week?"

Apparently Lisbon had been holding more back than he'd realized. "No. What happened?"

"He broke into her apartment with a taser and a knife in the middle of the night. Red John copycat, we think. Lucky she had her gun within reach."

"Can I speak to him?" Jane made sure to keep his voice calm, though he wanted to wring the assailant's neck.

"Only if you're willing to hold a seance."

_That's my girl,_ Jane thought. "Anything else I need to know?"

"Break her heart and I'll have to kill you. But you knew that."

"I was already aware, yes."

"See you tomorrow?"

"Probably."

"Have a nice time at dinner."

Jane was surprised, which didn't happen often. "How did you know we're going to dinner?"

"You answered Lisbon's phone. Either she's in the bathroom or you have her tied up. Either way, I figure you better feed her."

Jane laughed. "I intend to. See you tomorrow, Cho."

"Welcome home," Cho replied, then hung up.

"Jane?" Lisbon called from upstairs. "Who are you talking to?"

He'd been so distracted by Cho's revelation that he hadn't noticed the shower had stopped. "Cho called. Your pals at the FBI are missing you."

He grinned at the muttered expletive that reached his ears and said, "We'll deal with them tomorrow. Tonight, we feast."

She didn't reply, but he could hear her moving around upstairs. Fifteen minutes later, she came down the stairs. He smiled appreciatively at the emerald green blouse with the draped neckline, which he'd often appreciated in the past for its tantalizing glimpses of her cleavage. Paired with black dress slacks and high heeled boots, it was something she might wear to the office but was nice enough for a restaurant. But what really made him happy was that she was still wearing her engagement ring.

"You look beautiful," he smiled.

"I don't really have a dress to wear," she said uncertainly. "You didn't say where we're going, so I hope this is okay."

"It's perfect." He took a shot at kissing off her lip gloss, refraining from babbling promises to take her shopping and buy her all the designer dresses and ridiculously expensive shoes she wanted. That wasn't the way to Lisbon's heart.

When they parted, he took her hands in his. She looked up at him with eyes bright with happy anticipation, and he resolved to put that expression on her face more often. Bringing her left hand up to his lips, he kissed each of her fingers, rubbing his thumb over her ring. "May I introduce you to the maître d' as my fiancée?" he asked, letting the tenderness he felt for her come through in his voice.

She blushed charmingly, her breath hitching a little as she thought about what he was asking her. Finally, she nodded and gave him a breathless, "Yes."

The smile that took over his face was so wide it hurt a little; his muscles weren't used to it. He indulged in another long kiss, tempted to lead her back upstairs and make love to her until he collapsed from exhaustion. But she had just agreed to publicly announce that she intended to marry him, so the least he could do was buy her the best dinner he could manage at short notice.

Then he'd take her to bed and test his limits.


	5. Revelations

**Author's Note**: I had reserved this weekend for housecleaning and garden work. This happened instead. Apparently what I need is someone to review my housekeeping, and then maybe I'd do it more regularly! I think I'm addicted. So to all of you who've been feeding my addiction, thanks!

**Chapter 5: Revelations**

Lisbon felt like she was living in a dream. She couldn't remember the last time she'd enjoyed an evening this much. Sitting across a candlelit table from Jane, listening to him spin stories about their fellow diners, was apparently all she needed to forget her troubles. And he seemed happy—not just the lightheartedness she'd sometimes seen in him, but really, deeply happy. He was free of the self-imposed burden he'd been carrying since she'd known him, and she was amazed at the difference it made. He was still Jane, but he was more open, more relaxed. He even laughed. She had never heard him laugh like this before, and she loved it. She hoped she would hear a lot more of it.

And she really hoped she wouldn't be the one to make him stop laughing again. She would have to tell him everything soon, but she was selfish enough to want this evening to be about them, not about bleak possibilities.

"No thinking about work," Jane said sternly. "What you should be thinking about is dessert. Tiramisu? Or the triple chocolate concoction? Or both?"

"I don't think I can eat another bite," she admitted.

"Nonsense." Jane waved at their server and ordered both desserts, plus coffee for her and tea for him.

"That's a waste," Lisbon warned him.

"We'll take the leftovers home. I'll feed you a midnight snack in bed." He winked at her, and she felt her cheeks heat up, which just made him grin. After a moment, she smiled back.

While they picked at their desserts, Jane said, "When you're ready, I'd like to throw a small engagement party. Just for the team, and anybody else you feel like inviting. Would you be okay with that?"

"Sure." She was still having a hard time wrapping her head around this new role of fiancée. She hoped she'd be able to do so soon, because she suspected adjusting to marriage would be even harder. "But if we're going public, does that mean you're not coming back to work?"

"I'd planned to. Are we going to have to find our way around some ridiculous policy?"

"I'm afraid so. Of course, you could always go work for the FBI. Maybe you could at least keep them off my back."

Jane looked thoughtful. "Hm. I suppose they do need help sorting out Red John's network."

"I was joking," she said, a little alarmed. She doubted Jane would last a day in a federal agency. Well, maybe Homeland Security. If Kirkland was any example, they could tolerate a certain amount of rogue behavior.

"Relax, Teresa. I won't make any career moves without discussing them with you. But I think you'll agree I need to keep busy, and I doubt you want me to go back to my psychic con."

"Definitely not." That would probably be a deal breaker, she thought.

"That reminds me. Do you have any objection to spending the money I made doing that before? I haven't touched most of it. I promised myself I wouldn't spend it until Red John was dead."

"It's your money, Jane. I think you should spend it however you like." She was puzzled as to why he was asking her.

"But if we're getting married, it'll be your money too. So I want you to keep in mind that we have plenty. If you are no longer enjoying your job, you can quit. In fact, now would be an excellent time. We can start fresh somewhere else."

She stared at him. "You're telling me you have enough money that we don't have to work? Why have you been living like a vagabond all these years?"

"I told you, I decided not to use that money. And the pittance you were paying me was barely enough to cover the property taxes on my house. Which I'm planning to sell, by the way, so that will add enough to keep us comfortable for another year or two."

"How...how much?" she managed to ask.

"Hard to say. Most of it's invested, of course. But my net worth is somewhere north of ten million. Not rich by California standards, but plenty for two people who're used to state employee salaries." He took another sip of tea.

She sat back in her chair, stunned. He was not only unfairly good looking, fiercely intelligent, and incredible in bed, but rich too? It was a good thing he was such a pain in the ass, because otherwise he'd be damned near perfect.

"You're not going to freak out about this, are you?" Jane asked, looking closely at her.

"No." At least not in front of him, she resolved.

"Good. We'll spend some of it on the wedding and honeymoon, then. Have you given any thought to what kind of ceremony you want?"

"Not really." She tried to play it cool so he wouldn't realize how anxious the subject made her.

Fortunately, the server brought their check just then, interrupting Jane's scrutiny. She decided not to argue over who should pay, since he'd just finished telling her he had money, and excused herself to go to the restroom.

When she came out, he was waiting for her, and he slid an arm around her waist and stole a quick kiss before opening the outside door for her, takeout bag dangling from his hand.

"Thanks for dinner," she said. "I've been wanting to come here for ages."

"I know," he smiled. "This weekend we'll try the Thai place you've never gotten around to checking out."

"Oh." She grimaced a little. "Cho and I went last week. It was okay, but nothing special."

"So you've been hanging out with Cho while I've been gone?" She thought she heard a slight edge to his tone.

"We went there because it's so far from the office, and we didn't want to be overheard," she explained. "We were trying to figure out what the FBI was after, and what they were likely to find. We had a fight about who should take the blame."

"You had a fight with Cho? How does that work?" Jane asked, sounding amused.

"There's a lot of glaring and not much talking," she replied, making him chuckle. "Would you like to drive?"

"Still tired?" he asked, frowning a little.

"Yeah." She was actually nervous and hoping to distract Jane by letting him drive, but she was tired too, so it wasn't actually a lie.

He must have believed her, because he drove at a reasonable speed back to her place, then ushered her inside and locked up behind them. "I'll put the leftovers away if you want to go on up to bed," he offered.

"Okay." She took two steps toward the stairs, then hesitated. "You're coming up, right?"

She heard him chuckle as he set the leftovers in the fridge. "Right behind you, sweetheart."

Feeling a little ridiculous, she hurried to change out of her clothes and into a nightie she'd bought when she was young and still trying to impress her dates. It was a lovely wine color with black lace trim, but she wasn't twenty-six anymore, and it was tighter than she remembered. She tugged at it, hoping it didn't look as ridiculous as it felt.

Jane came in, shrugging out of his jacket but stopping on the threshold, transfixed, as he saw her. "Wow," he breathed. "Teresa, you could have brought me back anytime by texting a picture of yourself in that."

She couldn't help smiling at the admiration in his gaze. "Good to know, in case you decide to run off again."

"No need to worry about that," he assured her. "Next time I take a vacation, I'm taking you with me." He grinned, closing the distance between them and sliding his arms around her.

"Good." She kissed him, which she'd been wanting to do the whole drive home, and began unbuttoning his vest. When she was finished, she used it to tow him to the bed and pull him in after her.

Their previous night together had been driven by raw passion and urgency. This time, they moved more slowly, learning each other as thoroughly as possible. But finally the moment arrived when Lisbon knew she couldn't put off what she had to say any longer.

"You need to use a condom. There's a box in the nightstand."

Jane stopped kissing his way down her stomach. "All right," he said after a pause. "Did you stop taking the pill?"

"No. It's for your protection. I should have remembered the first time." Oh, she hoped she hadn't done him harm.

He stretched out beside her so their faces were level with each other. "You have something?" He was calm, and he stroked her hair, which always made her feel better.

"I don't know. My doctor says the chances are I'm okay." She took a deep breath. "When Red John painted my face with blood, he smeared it across my mouth and eyes."

"I know," he said softly. "I'm the one who washed it off you."

"My doctor says that put me at risk for catching any blood borne diseases Partridge might have had. My tests in the hospital came out negative, but sometimes it can take a while for the infection to be detectable. I went back yesterday, and she promised I'd have the results tomorrow."

"And that's why you've been upset," he murmured. "Because you might have HIV or something?"

"Yeah."

"Did they check Partridge's blood?"

"There was nothing, but I'm not sure I can trust the coroner's report. It just...it occurred to me that this might be what Red John intended, to make me sick so you'd have to watch me suffer."

"Maybe," Jane said. "But on the other hand, that seems a chancy way to go about it. I think you're fine. But I wish you'd told me you were worried."

"I'm sorry. I should have told you before we had sex the first time. I just wasn't thinking."

"That was on purpose," Jane said, kissing the tip of her nose. "I wanted to drive you out of your mind immediately so you wouldn't have a chance to talk yourself out of it." He rolled over to rummage in her nightstand drawer. "Do you have to go back to the doctor then?"

"No. They'll call me. I only have to go in if they find something." She searched his expression anxiously.

"I want to be there for you, whatever they have to say." He kissed her gently. "And no test result is going to change the fact that I love you. You know that, right?"

A tear escaped despite her attempt to blink it away. Jane caught it with his lips, then kissed his way to her mouth again. "Teresa, you know that, don't you?"

"Yes," she choked out.

"And I'm here for you. Whatever happens. I want to build my new life with you. I want to start every day waking up beside you and go to sleep every night in your arms."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to her, trying to convey in her kiss what she couldn't quite find the words to say.

When she released him, he pulled away for a moment to put the condom on. Then he began to make love to her in earnest.

"I like the old-fashioned wedding vows," he whispered in her ear. "With my body I thee worship."

She moaned, feeling the pleasure build inside her so intensely she was afraid it would shatter her when it was finally released. "We can...use those," she gasped out.

He groaned. "And with all my worldly goods I thee endow."

She wanted to say that she didn't care about his worldly goods, but she couldn't put the words together before her orgasm overtook her. Jane came a few moments later, and they lay tangled together, panting lightly.

"I love you," she said when she'd caught her breath.

"I love you too." He picked up a strand of her hair and began playing with it, twirling it around his finger. "And I want to marry you, the very instant you feel ready. But I'll try not to pressure you."

"Thank you. I'll try not to keep you waiting too long," she murmured. "But in the meantime, I'm okay with being engaged. I can't wait to see Cho's face."

He chuckled drowsily. "Me too."

mmm

Lisbon wasn't used to going about her morning routine with someone else there. This was another thing she was going to have to adjust to, she thought. Jane was doing his best not to get in her way, though his attempt at breakfast was stymied by her lack of groceries.

"I'd have gone shopping if you'd told me you were coming back," she said as they sipped their coffee and tea.

"We can do it after work," Jane replied. "Or, if there's nothing going on today, I can do it during work."

"Playing hooky on your first day back?" She shook her head at him. "Just because you're sleeping with the boss doesn't give you free rein."

"Not just sleeping with. Engaged to," he corrected, smiling.

Her heart sank. "Can we... I'd like to wait until I get my test results before we announce anything. If I'm sick, I need to deal with that first. Okay?" She gave him a pleading look.

He reached over and stroked her hair. "Okay. Whatever is easiest for you, my dear. But in return, I ask that you stop trying to hide things from me. Whatever news you get, I want to know. Right away."

"Okay." She couldn't say that it was none of his business, after all. This would affect his future too.

"Good. Now, Marie's. I couldn't find a decent blueberry muffin where I was," he complained.

Lisbon tucked her ring in her pocket before they left the house, glancing quickly at Jane as she did so. His mouth tightened, but he didn't say anything, and he was cheerful enough at Marie's, where the staff all knew him. When they got to the office, she was glad that all the attention was on him and the goodies they'd brought and she could just stand there listening to him talk about his vacation to the team.

Then her phone rang. She glanced at the caller ID, then at Jane, before murmuring, "Excuse me," and hurrying toward her office. "Hello?"

"Ms. Lisbon? This is Vickie from Dr. Talavera's office."

"Yes?" She reached the safety of her office and began drawing the blinds.

"We have your test results back. Everything came out negative. You're fine, and you don't need to follow up until your next regular checkup."

Lisbon sank onto the couch, relief weakening her knees. "Thank you," she managed to say.

"We'll see you next year, then. Have a good day!"

"You too." She hung up the phone and let her head fall back on the couch, saying a quick prayer of thanks.

When the door swung open, she wasn't surprised to find Jane there, looking her over anxiously. "I'm fine," she told him. "The tests were negative."

He dropped onto the couch beside her and grabbed her up in a crushing hug. "Thank God," he murmured into her hair.

She hugged him back, feeling a weight lift from her. She suddenly felt giddy. "Let's go tell them we're engaged."

Jane didn't want to let her go, keeping her close as he lifted his face from her hair to kiss her. She decided to make an exception to her resolve to keep things professional in the office and kissed him back with enthusiasm.

When they parted, Jane nimbly slid the ring from her pocket and held it up. "Teresa Lisbon, you are the warmth and light in my life. I have no home except where you are. Make me the happiest man on earth and marry me."

"Yes," she said, beaming at him as he slid the ring on her finger.

He slid the ring on her finger, grinning. "Now it's official. I didn't want to spend our entire married life hearing that I never really proposed to you."

She laughed. "I'll just have to find other things to complain about." Then she kissed him soundly before getting up and pulling him to his feet. "Come on. I want to hear the end of that story about you starting a surfing school."

"It only lasted a day," he chuckled. "Do you want to make a big announcement or see who notices first?"

"Let's see how long it takes," she replied.

It took Cho less than a minute to spot the ring. "Congratulations. What took you so long?"

"Don't look at me," Jane said as Grace grabbed Lisbon's hand to get a good look.

"Yes, look at him," Lisbon retorted. "We could hardly tell people when you weren't here."

"I see how this is going to go," Jane said. "Everything is always going to be my fault."

"Get used to it," Rigsby grinned.

Cho said, "Most things are your fault, so no real change then."

"When's the big day?" Grace asked.

"We're still in the early stages of this," Lisbon said. "We'll let you know when we figure it out."

Grace said, "Let me know how I can help."

"Thanks. Now, tell me what I missed yesterday," Lisbon said, feeling it was time she actually did some work.

"The FBI," Rigsby said. "Lucky for you."

"They confiscated all our Red John files," Cho said. "The order came down from the AG."

Grace added, "I made copies of all the computer files, of course."

Rigsby said, "I don't understand what they're looking for. We told them everything we know."

"I think," Jane said, "they've decided they can't trust anyone, including us."

"But we brought Red John down!" Rigsby protested.

"Ah, but his network still exists. What if we're part of it, and this was just a power play? Maybe we got rid of him so we could take over." Jane rolled his eyes. "It's the sort of thing people who don't know me very well think I would do."

Cho said, "Not just the people who don't know you very well. You were just so focused on Red John that you didn't think of it."

Jane's grin was somewhat alarming. Lisbon said, "The FBI is just unhappy that we got him and they didn't. They want a big bust to make themselves feel better. We will cooperate with them, and eventually they'll leave us alone. Understood?"

"Yes, Boss," everyone but Jane chorused. She glared at him, and he grinned at her.

"My dear, you cannot possibly expect me to cooperate with anyone attempting to persecute you," Jane said. "How did they get this ridiculous idea in the first place?"

She sighed. "Because Red John didn't kill me when he had the chance. They don't understand it. Neither do I, really."

"It's very simple. He wasn't ready for his game to end, and he knew it would all be over if he killed you. Because I couldn't go on if I lost you too." Jane said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"You said...he was feeling playful. Or ran out of time," she said, frowning. "So that's what I told them."

"You weren't ready to hear the truth," he said.

She gave him a light punch in the arm, and he overreacted, yelping and rubbing at the spot like she'd actually hurt him. "Then you tell the FBI that," she ordered.

"I'll be happy to," he said. "Are you wanting your revenge on them by sending me to offer my services?"

"No," she said. "If they want to hire you, you should play hard to get until they make an offer you like." The thought of not working with him anymore made her sad, but at least she'd be going home to him at night.

Jane got a peculiar look on his face. Then he smiled the smile that always meant trouble. "An excellent idea, my dear," he said. "I'll be sure to do that."

Before she could demand to know what plan he'd just cooked up, the phone on Cho's desk rang. He picked it up and said, "Yeah? Okay. Got it."

"We're up?" Lisbon asked.

"Yeah. Body in a storage unit."

"All right, back to work then." She glanced at Jane, relieved to have him back on the job, however long it lasted. He smiled, setting his hand on her lower back as they headed for the elevator.

It was good to be back to normal.

**Author's Note:** Maybe it's the fact that I work in a field related to medicine, but when RJ smeared the blood across Lisbon's lips, all I could think was "I hope she doesn't ingest any of that!" So sorry if I grossed anybody out, but I needed to work this out so I can stop worrying about it.


	6. The New Normal

**Author's Note: **Looks like Sunday's episode is going to make this an AU fic of sorts. So I'm officially declaring that this departs from canon after The Red Tattoo. Thank you so much for sticking with this story, and for the reviews, follows, and favorites! This chapter is mostly plot, but the next chapter promises to get back more to the original tone of the story.

**Chapter 6: The New Normal**

Jane was determined to embrace his new life wholeheartedly. After years of unhappiness, obsession, and self-denial, he was finally free—not of his past, because that would always be part of him, but of his need to punish himself. He could finally have the life he wanted, and he'd already made one huge stride toward it by getting Lisbon to agree to marry him.

Despite his inclination to rush ahead and try to put all the other pieces into place immediately, he knew he had to move carefully. Lisbon had been under enormous strain during his absence, dealing with her doubts about whether he was really coming back, being the focus of an extremely misguided investigation, and worrying about her health. Now that two of those anxieties had been removed, it was a delight to watch her relax and start to enjoy their new relationship.

Now he needed to deal with the FBI. A lot of political nonsense had gone on while he was relaxing on the beach, prompted by Bertram's abrupt departure. The lack of leadership meant that he and Lisbon were flying under the radar with their new relationship, but that couldn't last forever. Their days of working together at CBI were numbered, and they both knew it.

Meanwhile, there were rumors afoot that a new program was under consideration, blending CBI and FBI teams under the theory that they could watch each other and ferret out any Red John disciples remaining. No good would come of that, Jane suspected. For one thing, the paperwork would only increase, and Lisbon already spent ridiculous amounts of her time dealing with it. For another, he'd been around cops long enough to know how important it was to trust your teammate when bullets started flying. He didn't want Lisbon relying on someone who might not come through for her, and he didn't want her worrying that anything she said or did could be used against her.

Maybe it was time to start fresh. He wondered what the odds were of convincing Lisbon to walk away. Once California politics were taken out of the equation, she'd have no trouble getting a job elsewhere. She was the woman who led the team that had tracked down Red John, after all.

As much as he wanted to take care of her and shield her from anything that might make her unhappy, he recognized that Lisbon was firmly in control of her life and determined to stay that way. She wouldn't allow him to coddle her, and she would take a very dim view of any interference in her career. So if he decided to intervene, he'd have to be very subtle about it.

After they solved their latest case, it occurred to him that it might be necessary to their marital happiness to separate their careers. Lisbon was guiltily aware she was breaking the rules by getting involved with someone she supervised, which made her feel she needed to be harder on him when he did something she disapproved of. Which was a lot, even though he was really trying not to irritate her unnecessarily now that they were living together.

By the fourth day, they were beginning to form something of a morning routine, which helped. Lisbon wasn't a morning person, so Jane decided to reserve any attempts at morning sex for her rare days off. He did like a cuddle, though, and she permitted that as long as he let her go when her coffeemaker began its siren call.

He'd fix breakfast while she drank coffee, and they'd eat together. By the end of the meal, Lisbon would be awake enough for normal conversation, and she'd clean up the dishes while he showered. She'd take her shower while he dressed and did whatever household chores needed done, and then, when she was ready, he'd hand her a travel mug of coffee for their drive to work.

But the evenings were his favorite time. If they got home early enough, he'd cook; if they were running late, they'd either grab something on their way home or reheat leftovers. Afterward, they'd snuggle on the couch and watch old movies. It surprised him a little that Lisbon was a snuggler, but she seemed to enjoy lying on the couch half on top of him while he played with her beautiful hair. He greedily drank up every moment of quiet intimacy they could manage, starved for it after so many years of isolating himself, refusing the comfort she would have given him. He was only now realizing that in doing so, he'd denied her comfort as well.

"Do you think we can take the weekend off?" he murmured.

"Unless something comes up tomorrow," she sighed. "I have a management meeting in the morning. You need to stay out of trouble while I'm stuck in it. Can you do that?"

"I'll try, my dear." He stroked her hair, then rubbed her back.

"Did you have something planned?" she asked.

"I need to go down to Malibu and get the house ready to sell. I was hoping we could make a weekend of it. There are some lovely hotels in the area where we could stay."

"If nothing comes up, we can go. We're not on call this weekend." She shifted to lay her head over his heart. "I should call my brothers and tell them we're getting married."

He smiled. "Be sure to tell them I'm rich. Because I'm sure you've already told them I'm a pain in the ass."

She gave a drowsy chuckle. "It may have come up once or twice. If I tell them you're rich, they'll expect you to fly them out for the wedding, you know."

"I'm happy to. So we're getting married out here?" He tried not to get too excited that she was actually thinking about the wedding.

"Yeah. Just something simple, okay? But I want my brothers there."

"Then you shall have them. Um, they're not going to want to haze me or anything, are they?" If she'd been telling them stories about him over the years, there might be punching involved. Since they'd probably learned to punch the same place she did, he preferred to avoid that.

"Don't worry." She sounded amused. "I'll protect you. Just don't let them throw you a bachelor party."

Hm. Well, he'd just make sure he had Cho and Rigsby for protection in that event. "Anyone else you want here from your hometown?"

"Not really. I'd like to invite Minelli though. Maybe Hightower too."

"I'd like that." He chuckled at a particularly funny bit onscreen, then remarked casually, "If we are flying your brothers out, that means we need to set a date. We can't just wake up one morning and decide to get married that day. Or even the next."

"Mm hm," she replied, half asleep.

"Come on, sleepyhead. It's bedtime for all good little CBI agents," he said.

She chuckled. She found him much funnier nowadays, he thought. Of course, maybe he was. He loved her laugh, always had. And now he had more time to devote to amusing her.

She loved his laugh too, he knew. He made it a point to do it as often as possible so he could see the delight in her eyes. And he was in the midst of a very enjoyable scientific experiment, testing his hypothesis that his laughter made her want to kiss him. He was about ninety percent sure of the causal relationship, but he needed more data. About fifty years' worth.

With an exaggerated groan, he sat up, turned off the TV, and got to his feet, coaxing Lisbon up after him. She moaned in protest, but eventually she was standing in his arms, leaning against him and rubbing her cheek against his chest.

"I will attempt to carry you up the stairs if you want, but I'm afraid it might not end well for either of us," he said, nuzzling her hair.

She made a snorting sound that was both adorable and hilarious, and he chuckled, hugging her tightly.

"I can't walk if you don't let me go," she pointed out.

"Oh," he said, pressing a kiss to her temple, "I'm never going to let you go. Never."

mmm

Jane tried to stay out of trouble while Lisbon was in her meeting. He looked over the couple of cases the team hadn't closed in his absence and offered some suggestions, and then he read for a while. He was just carrying a freshly brewed cup of tea to his couch when a voice said, "Why, Mr. Jane. How nice to see you again."

He turned and replied, "Agent Fischer. What can I do for the FBI today?"

"We're actually here to see Agent Lisbon. Oh, this is Supervisory Agent Dennis Abbott."

Jane shook the man's hand. Abbott said, "Nice to finally meet you. I've heard a lot about you, Mr. Jane."

"Alas, it's all true," Jane grinned. "What exactly do you supervise, Agent Abbott?" There was a Costello joke on the tip of his tongue, but he'd promised Lisbon he'd behave, so he kept it to himself.

Abbott ignored the question, correctly interpreting it as facetious, but Fischer said, "Me, for a start."

Jane said, "Ah. Then you're the man I need to speak to. Where on earth did you get the ridiculous notion to investigate Lisbon?"

"Speaking of Agent Lisbon," Abbott replied, "where is she?"

"In a meeting. She should be done soon. Can I offer you some coffee?" He took a sip of his tea to encourage the idea.

Fischer and Abbott exchanged glances, and Abbott said, "Sure."

Jane led them into the break room and pulled a couple of mugs out of the cupboard, pointing out the creamer and sugar so they could fix their coffee as they liked it. Lisbon would be irritated if he antagonized the FBI, so he decided to kill them with kindness, as it were.

He wondered if it would be safe to have them wait in Lisbon's office, then decided it was. She was diligent about not leaving important or sensitive things around, and she always logged out of her computer if she wasn't coming right back, believing that would keep him out of trouble. As if he couldn't guess her password in three tries.

"You're welcome to wait for her in her office," Jane said when they'd finished trying to make their coffee not taste like coffee.

"Thanks," Fischer said, smiling at him. She had apparently decided to counter his charm offensive with one of her own.

He suddenly wished he had an engagement ring to wear. He was out of practice fending off women without a ring as a reason. It was tiresome.

Fortunately, he'd no sooner gotten them settled at the little table in Lisbon's office when she walked in, trying to conceal her surprise and chagrin. "Agents. What can I do for you?" she asked.

Jane got to his feet, smiling at her. "Would you like some coffee, Lisbon? Or some nice herbal tea?"

She gave him a puzzled look, but replied, "Coffee, thanks, Jane."

Jane was an expert by now at preparing Lisbon's perfect cup of coffee, so it didn't take him long. When he went back into her office, he was pleased to see that she'd chosen to sit on the couch, demonstrating that she was relaxed in her own space. He sat at a proper distance beside her and handed over her mug.

As she lifted it in both hands, Fischer exclaimed, "Congratulations, Agent Lisbon! I hadn't realized you were engaged."

"It's recent," Lisbon said, blushing a little. Jane could see her tensing up and realized that she did not want them to know he was the fiancé in question.

"Yes," he said, "our Lisbon has decided to embrace life to the fullest now that we're not being stalked by a serial killer."

Abbott asked, "So who's the lucky guy?"

"I prefer not to discuss my personal life at the office," Lisbon said.

A lesser man, Jane reflected, would have coughed or smirked at this point, giving the game away. He recognized the impulse as a primitive urge to mark his territory, and also that giving in to it would mean a night on the couch, or possibly in a hotel room somewhere, so he refrained. Lisbon's bed was his new favorite place, and he had no intention of getting himself banished from it.

Lisbon continued, "You were just beginning to tell me about this exchange program?"

"Yes. It's temporary, but if it works out, we might implement some version of it on a more permanent basis. The governor loves the idea," Abbott said. "We've drawn up a list of personnel we'd like to bring over from CBI and a list of FBI agents to come work from here. For your team, we're assigning Agent Fischer, which is why I asked her to accompany me."

Lisbon tried her best to be gracious, Jane noted. "Welcome, Agent Fischer."

"Thanks. I look forward to working with you," Fischer replied, smiling.

Jane thought sourly, _Investigating her, you mean._

"And in return, we're requesting Agent Van Pelt and Mr. Jane."

"No," Jane said.

Everyone looked at him. He continued, "I work with Lisbon."

"Jane," Lisbon warned, but her tone lacked conviction.

"Mr. Jane," Abbott said, poorly concealing his impatience, "the governor has approved this plan. It is not optional."

"It is for me," Jane retorted. "I work with Lisbon, or I quit. I did what I came to the CBI to do. I've stayed out of loyalty to the people who helped me, primarily Lisbon. If you take that away, I have no reason not to move on."

"Jane," Lisbon said again, this time clearly meaning shut up until we have a chance to discuss this.

Abbott looked irritated, and Jane realized he did indeed have the upper hand here. Abbott didn't want him to quit any more than Lisbon did. "It's all right, Lisbon. You closed cases before I came along, and you'll do even better now that I've taught you a few things."

She shot him a glare. "So that's it? Somebody gives you an order you don't like and you're out of here?"

"Since apparently I don't have the luxury of ignoring it as I do most orders I don't like, yes," he replied. "Don't worry about me, Lisbon. I'll find a new gig somewhere. Go back to Los Angeles, maybe. But rest assured I'll be back for your wedding."

"You better be," she muttered.

He grinned. "Well, if we're finished here, I'll go pack up my desk." He got to his feet and walked out, mildly disappointed that no one called him back. He went out to the bullpen and sat at his desk, prepared to carry on the charade until his brilliant plan bore fruit.

A few minutes later, Fischer followed him. "You really threw the cat among the pigeons in there," she grinned. "They're having an impromptu management meeting to decide what to do."

"That's why they get paid the big bucks," Jane said cheerfully. "I guess you can have my desk when I'm gone."

Grace turned around in her chair, too polite to interrupt but not disguising her surprise and alarm.

"I'm not sure I'd dare. You'll probably booby trap it," Fischer said.

Jane chuckled. "I might at that. But don't worry, it won't be anything long-lasting."

"So," she said, leaning on his desk, "have you met Agent Lisbon's fiancé?"

Jane grinned. "I have, yes."

Grace shot him a curious look but said nothing. Fischer asked, "Nice guy? I assume you checked him out, made sure he's not a plant?"

Grace winced a little at the reminder of her own past. Jane said, "No worries there. He's nice enough, I suppose, to her at least. But he's not good enough for her. Of course, I'm not sure anyone could be."

"So you two don't get along?" Fischer asked, her head tilting curiously.

"Not really. He can't forgive me for all the times I was a jerk to Lisbon. Not that I blame him for that." Jane shrugged, concealing his glee. He was messing with the FBI, and Lisbon couldn't even yell at him because she'd started it.

"Yeah," Grace chimed in, "none of us have really forgiven you for that, Jane. Are you going somewhere?"

"Off to my new life, Grace," he announced with relish. "Since my only other choice was to participate in a ridiculous exchange program with the FBI. Which apparently is your fate. Would you care to join me? You would make a stunning assistant."

She gave him a "you're so full of it" smile. "No thanks. I think I'll stick with law enforcement."

"Meh. Your loss." He began sorting through the things in his desk drawer. "Oh, Rigsby, I think this is yours." He tossed him the rubber band ball.

"Hey, I've been looking for that!" Rigsby exclaimed, catching it neatly. "You got anything else of mine in there?"

"No, but I believe I borrowed this book from you, Cho," Jane replied, pulling out a paperback copy of _Vanity Fair._

"Throw that at me and I'll make you eat it," Cho warned.

"I would never treat a piece of classic literature so badly," Jane assured him.

Rigsby said, "You're really leaving?"

Before he could respond, Lisbon strode into the bullpen, Abbott following closely. "Jane, put all that crap back. Or better yet, throw it away."

"Lisbon," he said, pretending to be offended, "some of this stuff is important."

"Right. Anyway, you're staying. Agent Abbott has agreed to take Rigsby and Van Pelt instead." Lisbon looked at her two agents.

"Uh, Boss," Rigsby said, "doesn't the FBI still have a policy about married agents?"

Abbott said, "Only in the same unit. Agent Van Pelt will be working in cybercrime, so that won't be an issue. You're to report to the Sacramento field office on Monday. Welcome aboard."

Lisbon said to Fischer, "We'll see you Monday as well. Have a good weekend."

"You too. Any plans?" Fischer was trying too hard to be friendly, Jane thought. And she'd chosen exactly the wrong way to go about it, since Lisbon was trying harder than ever to keep her personal life out of the office.

He decided to speak up. "I'm off to Malibu to do some work on my house. Lisbon's running away for a sexy weekend with her lover. She won't tell us where."

Fischer grinned. "Gee, I wonder why. Bye, everybody. See you Monday!" She followed Abbott out.

When they were free of the FBI, Lisbon leaned against his desk, to his delight. She probably wasn't conscious of the urge to reclaim her territory from Fischer, but that was exactly what she was doing. "Having fun?" she muttered.

"Oh, yes." He beamed at her and began putting things back in his desk.

"Boss," Grace said, "what's this all about?"

Lisbon briefly explained the new program. "You'll gain some valuable experience, and you can keep an eye out for any disciples we haven't found. Fischer will be doing the same thing here. This is only temporary, so don't worry."

Nobody looked happy, and Jane felt a little sorry that Rigsby had been sacrificed in his place. But there was no way he was going to leave Lisbon to be harassed and investigated without him to run interference. Besides, it would be amusing to find out how long they could keep their secret from Fischer.

Grace said, "So why aren't we telling them about your engagement?" She cast a suspicious look at Jane.

Lisbon sighed. "I don't want to give the FBI any more ammunition than they already have."

Cho came closer to the group. "What are you going to do after you get married?"

"We haven't figured that out yet," Lisbon admitted. She looked at Jane. "Going to the FBI would have been one solution. They really wanted you, you know."

"If they really wanted me," Jane replied, "they'd have asked for you too."

"They want you to sniff out any more moles. Since they still aren't sure about me, they don't want to make things worse."

Jane shrugged. "There's a flaw in their logic, then. If they still suspect you after I've flatly told them you are above suspicion, then they don't trust my ability to identify Red John's disciples. And if they don't trust that, they have no need for me. I might as well stay here with my couch and my teacup and my partner."

Lisbon looked at him for a moment more, then turned back to the team. "All right, back to work, everyone. We need to wrap up everything we can before we lose half our unit and get a single FBI agent in return."

Oh, she was very unhappy with this arrangement, Jane thought. He wondered if she really would have been happier if he'd agreed to go. Then he dismissed the thought. He'd need a better incentive than the governor's approval to move so far out of his comfort zone, and if Lisbon had really wanted him to go, she would have talked to him before finalizing anything with Abbott.

But he agreed with her that Fischer would be a poor substitute for Rigsby and Grace. He was fond of them, and more importantly, he knew he could trust them. The amusement he'd derive from messing with Fischer was hardly worth having to accept someone in their midst they couldn't trust. Well, if he messed with her badly enough, it wouldn't have to be a problem for long.

"You," Lisbon said, making him look up and hastily assume an innocent expression. "No harassing our guest."

"Would I do that, Lisbon?" he asked, trying for a wounded tone but not quite making it.

"Yes, you would. With malice aforethought, even. Don't make this worse than it needs to be." She pinned him with a glare.

"Lisbon, you know how much I value a relaxed and pleasant work atmosphere," he replied.

Grace tried to convert her laugh to a cough, without much success. Lisbon rolled her eyes and stalked back to her office, apparently deciding that arguing with him in the bullpen was unlikely to produce the desired result. She'd wait until she had the advantage of her own territory, he thought.

Perversely, he was looking forward to it.


	7. Angels

**Author's Note: **First of all, apologies to Amira and anyone else trying to remain unspoiled who were ambushed by the one in my author's note a couple of chapters back. I will be more careful in the future! Second, thanks to everyone who took the time to review the last chapter. And third, you might need a Kleenex for the end of this chapter. I spent the morning at a memorial service and, as usual, used writing as therapy. And last, this chapter is dedicated to my dear friend JSL. The world is a much less witty and kind place without her in it.

**Chapter 7: Angels**

They were actually able to leave the office at a normal time, and Jane suggested they fly to L.A. that night so they'd have more time at the house over the weekend. Lisbon agreed that driving would leave them almost no time in Malibu, but she shuddered to think what last-minute tickets would cost. "I hate flying," she pointed out.

"It's safer than driving," Jane replied.

"I know, but nobody cares if I take my gun in my car," she grumbled. Airport security was so difficult that they almost never flew anymore, no matter how far they were going. Well, that and budget cuts.

"We're going to do domestic chores, Teresa. You don't need to be armed."

"What if a disciple finds us there? You'll be glad I've got my gun then."

"Fine. But we need to leave now if you're going to go through all that." He'd packed in record time, and Lisbon did the same. It was easy when you knew exactly how long you were going to be gone, which was rarely the case for her.

The annoyances of airport security gave way to the stress of trying to make their flight. Lisbon nearly knocked Jane over after they got on the plane, since he stopped immediately. "What are you doing?" she demanded.

"These are our seats. I'm putting my bag up." He hoisted his small suitcase into the overhead compartment and reached for hers. "Would you prefer the window or the aisle?"

He'd sprung for first class? She hadn't bothered to look at her seat assignment. "Oh my God, how much did this cost?" she whispered.

"Don't worry. This isn't a vacation; you'll work for it," he grinned.

She slid into the window seat, trying not to gawk. This was the first time she had ever been seated in first class.

"Just relax and enjoy it," Jane advised, sitting beside her and taking her hand.

"You don't need to blow a lot of money to impress me, you know," she said after a moment.

"I know. But I have a lot to make up to you. I figured sparing you coach seating was the very least I could do. Besides, I hate it."

She smiled a little at his attempt to make his generosity sound selfish. Though it was true she was going along to help him, she was grateful not to have been left behind again. To be with him, knowing he was okay, was well worth a little home repair. "So what needs done at your house?"

"Probably a lot. I called my old handyman and asked him to meet us there in the morning. He can help us figure it out. He also recommended a realtor, who's meeting us in the afternoon. I'm hoping we can get this done and still have a little relaxation time."

She thought he was being overly optimistic about a house that had sat empty for a decade now, but she decided not to point that out. She knew he hadn't entirely neglected it, after all.

mmm

Usually flying wore her out, but with a comfortable seat and Jane to snuggle up with, it was a much better experience than she remembered. She didn't even argue with him at the car rental counter when he asked for a convertible, and she was rewarded when he immediately dropped the keys in her hand. It was nearly dark, but even the traffic didn't dampen her enjoyment of the trip.

The hotel was beautiful, and their room had a stunning view of the water. It also boasted a whirlpool tub big enough for two, which Jane encouraged her to use, even going so far as to start the water for her.

"What's with you?" she asked. "Do I smell bad or something?"

"No," he grinned. "I just have a fantasy about finding you in the bath, that's all."

"You have a fantasy about me?" Maybe she shouldn't have been surprised, but she was.

"I have many, actually. Some I'm more attached to than others." His sly smile made her heart beat faster.

This was the vacation part of their trip, she reminded herself. After they started working on the house, he would probably lose his carefree attitude. There were bound to be a lot of emotions involved in saying good-bye to the last place he'd seen his wife and daughter alive.

"Okay, fine," she said. "How does this fantasy of yours go?"

mmm

Sex in a whirlpool tub turned out to be a lot more awkward than either of them anticipated, and afterward, they fell into each other's arms and laughed. When Lisbon caught her breath, she said, "Sex shouldn't take that much work."

"We were a lot younger when I started having that fantasy," Jane remarked. "Besides, you do yoga. Shouldn't you be more limber?"

She retaliated by tickling the back of his knee, making him twitch violently and slosh water over the side of the tub. "I think there's more water on the floor than in here with us," she said.

"So I'll tip housekeeping more than usual," he said. "That was utterly worth it. But now I would like to go lie on a nice soft bed that won't bruise me when I move involuntarily."

She snickered a little. "If you insist, old man."

He tickled her, grinning like a madman as her shriek echoed off the bathroom walls. Then they drained the tub, dried off, and curled up together in the big, soft bed. Jane played with the tendrils of her hair that had gotten damp when her loose bun had started to come apart during their exertions, then kissed her gently. "Thank you for coming with me."

She held him tighter. "Thank you for not leaving me behind."

"I think...this might be hard for me to do," he said, very softly.

"I know," she said quietly. "But there's nothing you need to hide from me, okay? Whatever you're feeling, it's okay. You should let yourself process this however you need to. Don't worry about what I'm thinking. I'll still be here when we're done, I promise."

"Oh, Teresa," he sighed into her hair. "I don't deserve you. Not in the least."

"Too bad. You're stuck with me," she assured him, kissing his shoulder. "Now get some sleep. Big day tomorrow."

mmm

Saturday was a long, busy day. The handyman came up with a lengthy list of repairs, all fairly minor, and got to work. Jane went and bought some cleaning supplies and paint, intending to tackle the master bedroom, but after he got back he seemed to be looking for any excuse to put it off. Lisbon finally sent him out to get them some lunch, but when she went upstairs to do the project herself, she stared at the smiley face and realized that this was Angela's blood. The last piece of her body, in a way, that Jane could still touch. She couldn't do this for him; it was too important, too fraught with emotion. But God, she wished she could spare him the pain.

She went back downstairs and continued sorting through the kitchen cupboards. Jane had called a charity earlier and arranged for them to pick all the furniture up, but he'd told her to look at the dishes and other small, shippable things to see if she wanted any of it. She'd decided instantly that she would keep the teacups and saucers, and maybe the rest of the beautiful china, though it would probably stay packed away since she rarely entertained. There were also some expensive small appliances she would like to have. The food processor in particular looked like one she had seen before and liked, but hadn't bought because she rarely cooked.

But Jane liked to cook, and he was always complaining about how badly equipped her kitchen was. She wondered how much of this he had bought and how much had been Angela's doing. Would it be too weird for him to walk into her kitchen and see something that reminded him of his old life? She was having a hard time judging how he was handling this.

When he returned with lunch for the three of them, he was his usual cheerful self again. He had also bought boxes and packing material, so after they were finished eating, she went back to the kitchen and started packing. He followed to lend a hand.

"Is this okay?" she asked.

"Of course it is. I want you to take whatever you like. The rest I'll give away."

"Isn't there anything you want?"

"The things that matter to me are in a safe deposit box. I'll come down when the house sells and get them."

She packed in silence for a while. When she couldn't stand it any longer, she said, "You'll tell me if any of this bothers you, right? I don't want you to feel weird about it."

"I don't have any emotional attachment to the dishes, Lisbon," he said with exaggerated patience. Then he bent and pulled out a griddle from the cookware cupboard, which she hadn't gotten to yet. "Well, maybe this. On Saturday mornings, I'd cook pancakes. I'd make them in all kinds of shapes. Charlotte loved that."

"Then pack it," she said.

Jane stared at the griddle for a moment, then reached for the bubble wrap. "Actually, we should probably take all the pots and pans. Yours aren't in prime shape anymore."

"It's still the same cheap set I bought right out of college," she admitted.

"I thought as much," he said. "But what I can't quite figure out is where the seventies stoneware came from."

She smiled. "My aunt bought herself some nice new dishes around the time I started on the force in San Francisco, and her daughter didn't want the old ones. My aunt got them when she got married. So she offered them to me. I was dirt poor and grateful to have them. There's even a gravy boat and a soup tureen somewhere."

Jane stopped what he was doing and put his arms around her. "I want to give you the best of everything."

She had no doubt that was what he'd done for his wife and daughter. Everything in the house was high quality, and she doubted either of them had ever wanted for anything. "I don't need much," she told him. "Just you."

"You have me," he whispered into her hair. "I spent so long not being able to give you anything, Teresa. Now I want to give you everything."

She appreciated the sentiment, but she was mildly terrified that he was going to start buying her extravagant jewelry or furs or a Ferrari. Though maybe that last one wouldn't be so bad. Still, she really should start thinking about where they would live so he could pour his energies into that.

After this was over. This was all he could handle right now. "I want to give you everything you want, too," she told him. "You haven't let anyone give you anything in so long. I want you to be happy. I want you to laugh more. I never want you to be hurt again." But he was going to be hurt, she knew, when he finally made himself go upstairs and erase the smiley face. She whispered, "I wish you would let someone else get rid of that goddamned smiley face."

"No," he sighed. "I have to do that myself. It's the last...the last step in getting him out of my life."

"I know," she said.

"But it makes a difference knowing you'll be here when I'm done," he told her. "It makes all the difference."

mmm

Jane never got around to the smiley that day. By the time the realtor was done making recommendations about staging, talking Jane into paying for rental furniture even though he had perfectly good furniture being loaded onto a charity truck, it was dinner time. Lisbon was frustrated by what seemed like pointless extravagance, but she managed to keep her mouth shut until they were at a lovely seafood restaurant Jane had chosen.

"I know you think this is ridiculous," Jane said as their drinks arrived. "But the kind of people with enough money to buy that house have certain expectations. Trust me. That was all necessary."

"It's your house, not mine," she pointed out. "And you're right, I don't know anything about selling houses."

"I didn't say that," he reproved.

"I know," she sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm just tired. Someone woke me up at the crack of dawn wanting sex."

He grinned. "It's not like you were reluctant. But if you like, I can wait until after we're done to wake you tomorrow morning."

"Ha ha." Like she would willingly miss a single second of sex with him, and he knew it. "So what's the plan for tomorrow?"

"Our flight's at four. We need to finish packing and get everything to a shipping place before lunch so we can enjoy a nice stroll on the beach before we set out for our journey home."

"Sounds good."

He reached across the table for her hand. "I'm really glad you came with me."

"I am too." She returned his lovely smile. Then she asked, "Which of your fantasies shall we try to act out tonight?"

He chuckled. "Hm. There are so many to choose from."

"Well, pick one. And I'm telling you right now, any of them that involve the office are so not happening."

"Oooh, a challenge. Care to place a wager?"

"No betting on our sex life," she said firmly. "Which will never take place anywhere on the premises of the CBI."

"If you say so, dear." His eyes were lit with mischief, and she wondered if any of his fantasies involved her jumping him on a restaurant table. She was pretty sure he had one involving his car that was also never going to happen.

"I do say so." She took a sip of her wine.

Jane steepled his fingers and gave her his best evil mastermind smirk. "We shall see. But for tonight, I'm thinking I would be satisfied with a less public venue."

"I'm relieved to hear it."

"As it happens, I've developed quite a few scenarios involving hotel rooms. All those times I lay awake at night knowing you were just on the other side of the wall gave me plenty of time to think."

"Well, you have until we get back to the hotel to decide on your favorite," she said.

mmm

The next morning, Lisbon was surprised and a little concerned when Jane not only wanted sex first thing in the morning, but again after they'd had their room service breakfast and were ready to leave. This couldn't be normal, she thought. But in the end it didn't matter if he was seeking solace in her body or just trying to put off doing something difficult. She'd said she would be there for him, and if he needed to have sex with her every ten minutes, that's what she'd do. At least the bathroom counter was an improvement over the tub.

He helped her pack the few remaining items they'd decided to keep, staying so close to her that their hands brushed or their shoulders bumped almost every time she moved, but finally they were done, and there was only one thing left on their list.

"Do you want me to come up and help?" she asked.

"No." He shook his head.

Maybe this would be easier if she weren't in the house at all, she thought. That way he wouldn't be overheard if he wanted to cry or shout or whatever he needed to do. "I'll take the boxes out to the car, then," she said. They'd made sure to pack them light enough that one person could carry them. "And maybe go to the shipping place we found."

"That sounds good. Bring lunch back with you, would you? We can have a picnic," he said with deceptive cheer.

"Okay." She gave him a smile, hoping he could read all the things she didn't think it would be wise to say: that he should call if he needed her, that she wished he didn't have to go through this, that she would be praying for him.

Maybe he did, because he pulled her against him and kissed her thoroughly. It was a long time before he let her go.

mmm

Her errands took longer than she'd anticipated, and she was anxious by the time she pulled back into the driveway. Grabbing the bag of food she'd gotten at an upscale deli near the shipping store, she hurried into the house to find Jane waiting for her on the living room floor, one of the dust covers serving as a picnic blanket. He was sipping a cup of tea using the cup and saucer they'd left unpacked for that purpose.

"I was beginning to think you'd met a handsome guy at the shipping place and run off with him," Jane teased as he stood and relieved her of the bag.

"He couldn't afford to fly me first class," she replied. "You have paint in your hair."

"I'll take a shower before we leave. That's why I got us a late checkout," he said. "You got me a blueberry muffin!"

She smiled at his delight, though her heart was hurting at the redness of his eyes and the slight hoarseness of his voice. "I thought you could use one."

He gave her a big, smacking kiss. "I love you."

"I love you too," she replied. "And as further evidence, I got you an orange to go with your sandwich."

"Good. I'm starving." He began unwrapping his sandwich eagerly.

They ate quickly, having worked up an appetite. Then Lisbon began picking up the trash, stopping when she realized that Jane had gone still and quiet. "Do you...want to be alone?" she asked tentatively.

"No," he said hoarsely. Then he grabbed her up in a tight hug, burying his face in her hair.

She held him, wishing she had the words to make this easier for him. This house must have so many memories of his family, of a time when he was happy. Leaving it behind had to be hard. She rubbed his back and slid her other hand into his hair, stroking and petting, trying to help him remember that although his wife and daughter were gone, he was still loved. Still cherished. Still valued, not just for closing cases, but for the man he was.

His hands began to move as well, but his touch was not intended for comfort. He knew exactly how to set her nerves alight, and he could do it with breathtaking speed. She'd always thought she needed time to become aroused, but she knew differently now. All she needed was a lover who knew not only how her body worked, but how her mind worked. She'd feared at first that once she held no more mysteries for him, he would become bored. But she hadn't taken into account how much comfort he drew from the familiar.

But as much as she wanted to comfort him, she was extremely uncomfortable with where this was happening. When he pulled her shirt out of her jeans and began unfastening them, she pulled her mouth away from his long enough to gasp out, "Are you sure you want to do this here?"

"Yes," he muttered, trying to reunite their lips.

"I don't think this is a good idea," she managed to get out, pushing at him with one hand.

He let out a groan of frustration and looked down at her. "Don't tell me the fearless Agent Lisbon believes in ghosts."

There was just enough mockery in his tone to tell her he was goading her. She ignored it. "I don't," she said, holding his gaze. She hesitated to say what she was thinking, but in the end she knew he wouldn't be dissuaded by anything but the truth. "But I believe in angels. And yours are here."

For just a second, he looked stricken, and she felt sick with regret. Then he rolled to his side, pulling her with him, and tucked his face into her neck, holding her tightly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry."

She felt the moist heat of his open-mouthed gasps against her neck, followed by the wet spots of tears. Her own eyes watered, and she tightened her embrace. He had not cried in front of her before, though there had been times she'd wondered if he might. And while she was very sorry she had caused him pain, she was relieved he was letting it out.

After a while, his breathing evened out, and he lifted his face from her hair, moving to rest his chin on top of her head. He cleared his throat twice before he started to speak. "This house was once full of love and laughter and happiness. But for the last ten years, it's only seen horror and grief and regret. And hate." He paused, then continued, "Another family will live here and make new happy memories, I hope. But before I leave it for the last time—"

He choked, and she stroked his hair, feeling her own tears sliding down her cheeks to his neck, mingling with the traces of his own.

"Before I leave it, I want one more happy memory. Something to wipe away the bad ones, or at least make them less powerful. I know it's foolish—"

"No, it's not," she whispered.

"But I don't think they would grudge it to me," he continued.

No, they wouldn't. She was sure of it. "Of course not."

"I know you're not comfortable with this. But—"

"Ssh," she said gently. "I'm sorry I stopped you. We can do whatever you want."

He let out a long sigh of relief and pressed a kiss against her neck. Then he lifted his head to kiss her lips. She tasted the salt of their combined tears and lifted a hand to wipe at his damp cheek.

Several long, deep kisses later, he pulled back to look at her and managed a sly grin, despite his teary eyes. "Whatever I want?" he echoed. "Are you sure you want to commit to that, Teresa? What I want might involve your handcuffs."

"Too bad I left them at home," she said, smiling gently at him. "How about whatever we can do on this floor without crippling ourselves?"

"Is that a request to be on top?" he asked.

She glanced around them at the curtainless windows. New ones were being brought in to complement the furniture that would be used in the staging. She decided to minimize her risk of exposure if any peeping Toms might be around. "No thanks."

Jane grinned at her, and she guessed he knew what she was thinking. "Better to bruise my knees than yours? I'm glad to see that martyr complex of yours has its limits."

"Martyr complex my ass," she muttered, more for effect than out of real annoyance. She was rewarded with a chuckle as he went back to work on her clothes.

mmm

When they were done, it was definitely time to leave. They picked up their trash, grabbed the teacup and saucer, and headed for the door. Lisbon pretended not to notice when Jane stopped on the threshold, putting their things in the car and getting into the driver's seat. When he joined her a few minutes later, she let herself have one quick look and then started the car.

"Look," Jane said suddenly. She glanced through the windshield where he was pointing, just in time to see two white birds fly past, then turn and head out over the ocean. They were beautiful, and she wondered if they were a sign. Or maybe a visitation.

Jane looked out the side window and was quiet as she drove. She turned on the radio and found a jazz station she knew he would like, leaving him to his thoughts.

mmm

When they reached their hotel room, Lisbon quickly thew the trash away and opened her mostly packed suitcase to tuck the teacup and saucer in, using her clothes as padding.

"Jane? I thought you were going to take a shower and get the paint out of your hair," she said when she turned and found him watching her.

He had a distant expression. "The reason I broke down when you mentioned angels is—" He hesitated.

"Patrick," she said softly, laying a hand on his shoulder. "You don't have to explain anything. I'm sorry I said it."

He shook his head. "That last Halloween, Charlotte was an angel. She was beautiful. The picture just came to mind and suddenly I remembered how excited she was and how much fun we had trick-or-treating. And it just struck me... I mean, it's not like I didn't know I was never going to hear her laugh again. But suddenly it just seemed like I couldn't bear it."

"Oh, sweetheart. I'm sorry." She put her arms around him and hugged.

"She would get so excited sometimes that her voice would just bounce off the walls and echo a little. And I'll never—"

She felt her tears start again as he broke off, swallowing hard. "It's a process," she said. "Grief comes and goes in waves. Sometimes you'll think you're fine and then something, a sound or a smell or a song, brings it all back."

Jane slid a hand into her hair and laid his cheek against her temple. "I cried so much while I was gone. I thought I was done."

"I don't think we're ever done grieving. Sometimes I'll see someone in the distance and think, just for a second, that it's my mom. And then, for a minute, it's like it just happened." She laid her head against his shoulder. "We never really get over loss. We just learn to live with it."

"I thought I had," he sighed.

"No, you decided that revenge would make it all better. It didn't, so now you have to grieve like the rest of us."

He made a harrumphing sound. "Revenge did make it better. It enabled me to be with you."

"You just always have to have the last word, don't you?" she grumbled. "Well, unless you want to explain to the first class flight attendant why you have paint in your hair while you're flirting with her, you should get in the shower."

"I did not flirt with Amy," Jane protested. "I merely wanted my tea the way I like it. And champagne to celebrate our first trip as an engaged couple."

"Whatever. Shower." She gave him a gentle push in that direction.

"You're not joining me?" He gave her his lonely puppy look, and she was tempted. But she also had a lump forming on the back of her head from banging it on the floor in the throes of her mind-blowing orgasm. Besides, she was beginning to worry that she would walk funny tomorrow.

"We don't have time for that," she replied. "You have ten minutes before we need to leave. We have to drop the car off before we catch our flight."

He sighed. "You're making me worry the romance is going out of our relationship."

"Says the man who's had sex three times today and has a reasonable chance at four if we don't miss our flight and have to sleep in the airport," she retorted.

He grinned at her and headed for the shower.


	8. Trickery

**Author's Note: **Thanks so much to all of you who sent me condolences and hugs in your reviews of the last chapter. Big hugs to you! I will try to keep the rest of the story more lighthearted, since I think we all need that right now. The more spoilers I read, the more I'm convinced of it!

**Chapter 8: Trickery**

Monday morning, Jane and Lisbon walked into the office, expecting to be the first ones there. But Fischer was waiting in the bullpen, sitting on Jane's couch. He immediately began thinking about ways to teach her it was off limits, but Lisbon took care of it for him.

"Agent Fischer," she said pleasantly. "You have your choice of Rigsby's or Van Pelt's desk. Rigsby's might be better, since you'll be working with Cho."

"Great." Fischer smiled at them. "How was your weekend?"

Jane cut Lisbon off. "Lisbon never tells us about her rare vacations. But doesn't she have a satisfied sort of glow about her this morning?"

Lisbon's glare could have cut through steel. Fischer wisely changed the subject and asked, "Did you have a productive weekend, Mr. Jane?"

"It was very productive. And parts of it were unexpectedly enjoyable," he replied. "How was yours?"

"It was nice. I had fun with some friends on Saturday, and then did chores and errands Sunday. One of which was reading the CBI employee handbook." She turned to Lisbon. "So I'm familiar with the regulations now."

"Great," Lisbon said. "Maybe you can inform Jane of a few of them sometime."

Jane grinned. "I know them, Lisbon. I just choose not to bow to a set of arbitrary rules rather than use my own judgment."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Considering some of the situations your judgment has gotten you into, maybe you should try following the regulations. You know, as an experiment. Or maybe just to mess with people's minds."

"Thank you, Lisbon. That gives me a great idea for April Fools' Day." He grinned rather foolishly at her.

"I look forward to that," she retorted. "It'll make a nice change from you egging Rigsby on to pull stupid pranks."

"Someone needs her coffee," he smirked.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I was running late and didn't have time to stop," she said, not adding aloud that he was the one who'd made her late.

"Then allow me to go and fetch you some. Agent Fischer, would you like anything?" Jane added graciously.

"I'd love a coffee. Maybe I could go with you, learn the area?" she suggested.

"Sure, why not? I know Cho's order. Your usual, Lisbon? Or a latte, perhaps? You seem to have burned off quite a few calories this weekend."

"Keep speculating about my personal life, and I'll work off a few more disposing of your corpse," she threatened.

He chuckled. "Your usual it is. Come along, Fischer. I'll show you where CBI agents go when they need real coffee instead of whatever it is they brew in the break room."

"Behave, Jane," Lisbon called after them.

Fischer chuckled as they got in the elevator. "She really doesn't trust you, does she?"

"Meh. She just worries. She'd microchip me if I'd agree to it."

"You don't seem to mind."

He shrugged. "I can't honestly say I haven't given her reason to worry in the past. Besides, it's nice to know someone cares."

She was quiet as they left the building and headed for the coffee cart. "You led a lonely life while you were hunting Red John, didn't you?"

"Yes." Except he really hadn't, because Lisbon had been with him, never more than a phone call away. He just hadn't always let himself appreciate that.

"Now that he's gone, do you ever think about dating again? I mean, Agents Rigsby and Van Pelt got together, and Agent Lisbon's getting married. It seems a shame for you to stay lonely."

He was careful not to meet her gaze. "No. I won't be dating again. I found the woman I'm supposed to be with. Anyone else would just be second best."

Fischer nodded. "Your wife. But I imagine you could find plenty of women who would accept not being the love of your life, as long as they were a love in your life."

Jane grimaced. "That wouldn't be fair to them or to me. No. I'm done dating."

"That's a shame," she said, sounding regretful.

"Maybe, but that's the way it is," he replied as they reached the cart. He put in his two orders, and Fischer gave hers. Jane decided to spring for all three, since she was providing him with amusement.

On their way back, Fischer said, "There are rumors going around that you and Agent Lisbon were lovers."

"There are a lot of active imaginations at CBI. It was bad enough that Red John knew I cared about Lisbon; sleeping with her would have made her even more of a target than she was." Jane let his expression go grim.

"And then she found somebody else," Fischer guessed.

"He's a smart man. He swept her off her feet in the euphoria of Red John's death." Even though he hadn't planned it that way, he was glad he'd given her the ring and clarified where he stood before he left. If he'd just run off like he'd wanted, she would have had an even worse time while he was gone. Or maybe she really would have found someone else.

"Who is this mystery man? Someone she was already seeing, I assume." Fischer tried to sound merely curious, but he could hear how much she wanted to know.

"Nobody important. If you ask me, a woman who once dated Walter Mashburn could have done better." He put a little jealous edge on his tone.

"The billionaire? Really?"

"Oh, yes. She really made an impression on him. But he was too shallow for her." He couldn't keep the pride out of his voice.

Fischer smiled. "You're sweet on her, aren't you?"

Jane gave a wistful smile. "There's not a woman in the world who's her equal. I very much want for her to be happy. And her fiancé makes her happy. I'll never do anything to interfere with that."

Fischer gave him a curious look. "Kind of a tragic hero, aren't you, Mr. Jane?"

"Oh, drop the 'mister.' You're part of the team now. And I'm not any kind of hero. Just ask Cho or Lisbon." He was relieved when they entered the building and reached the line to pass through security. Cho was two places ahead of them, so Jane passed his coffee to him.

"Thanks," Cho said. He nodded at the cup still in Jane's hand. "Pissed the boss off already?"

Jane chuckled. "Not much. But if she doesn't get her caffeine, she'll be looking for someone to take it out on. I'd rather it not be me."

"Find a sense of self preservation in the back of your closet?" Cho inquired.

"Never fear. I intend to keep making things interesting," Jane assured him.

When they got upstairs, Lisbon came out to meet them and claim her coffee. Cho frowned at her. "You okay, boss?'

"Sure. Why?' she asked.

"You're walking funny. Did you sprain something this weekend?"

Lisbon turned bright red, and Jane bit down on his tongue to keep from saying anything that would get him killed on the spot. Which was pretty much anything at all.

"I'm fine," she finally managed to say, before turning and going back to her office.

Fischer said, "Well. I guess the sexy weekend was pretty sexy after all."

"Don't let her hear you say that," Jane advised. He couldn't resist adding, "That does improve my opinion of her fiancé, though."

Cho said, "I just hope she doesn't need to chase down a suspect today, or he'll never hear the end of it."

"True," Jane mused.

Cho looked at Fischer. "How about you look over a few of our open cases? Fresh eyes might help."

"I'd love to," Fischer said.

Jane put in, "If you develop any theories, let me know. I'm always happy to serve as a sounding board before you take an idea to Lisbon."

"Yeah," Cho said. "Jane's our strategist. Saves time if he comes up with a plan before we take it to Lisbon."

Jane was pleased he didn't need to coax Cho on board with hazing the newbie. But then, Cho had been around the entire time the FBI was harassing Lisbon, so it wasn't surprising he was looking for payback.

"Good to know," Fischer said.

mmm

They caught a case midday. After the trip out to view the body, in a gorgeous state park, Jane was amused that Lisbon sent Fischer with Cho to interview the people at the campsite nearby while taking him to visit the family. She was obviously suspicious of him but not Cho. Jane pondered ways he could pin everything on Cho, but then discarded the idea. He wouldn't repay Cho's loyalty with betrayal.

He wished he had some idea of how long this exchange program was supposed to last. But it seemed to be open ended, which meant he couldn't time some big scam so that they wouldn't have to work with a humiliated Fischer. And he truly did not want to make things harder for Lisbon, or Cho for that matter.

Of course, if the purpose of this program was to sniff out Red John allies, maybe the best thing to do was to achieve that so things could go back to normal. The problem was, he was almost sure Lisbon and Cho had cleaned up the CBI already. The real problem was the rest of the network, hidden away in agencies where they had the scope to do more damage. Like the FBI.

The other problem was that eventually Fischer was going to find out that he was the mystery man engaged to Lisbon. Once the FBI found out, the AG would probably take action to separate them. Jane had been pondering what he would do when that happened. Maybe he'd let the FBI coerce him into working for them in their ridiculous program and send Rigsby back to support Lisbon. Or maybe he'd just retire.

Well, in the short term, he could at least have a little fun. He'd lifted Fischer's badge off her during their coffee run and was looking forward to seeing what would happen when she realized it.

Lisbon was annoyed with him for being distracted during their interview, and she didn't even wait until they were back in the car before calling him on it. "What's with you? You were barely paying attention in there."

"None of them did it," he shrugged as they got in the car. "It was obvious. I devoted my considerable problem-solving skills to other matters."

"Oh? And what problems did you solve?" she retorted, slamming her door closed.

"Nothing yet, but I discarded quite a few impractical solutions, which is a necessary part of the process."

Lisbon started the car. "What's going on in that head of yours?" Then something occurred to her, and she gentled her tone. "Are you thinking about the house?"

"Hm? Oh. No. My eyes are firmly fixed on the future," he replied. "I was thinking we can't have our engagement party while Fischer is sniffing around. Unless of course we disguise it as a sort of reception for Rigsby and Van Pelt." He liked the idea of everyone but Fischer knowing what the party was really about.

Lisbon grimaced. He knew she was already regretting having started this deception, but she was well and truly trapped now. "Can we keep the lying about our engagement to a minimum?"

"Fine. But she's going to find out sooner or later. I haven't been able to come up with a solution for that problem yet, but I'm working on it."

"The solution is that one of us has to go work someplace else. If you won't go to the FBI, maybe I should. If they'll even have me."

She sounded tired, and he glanced at her in concern. "That makes no sense. You care about staying at the CBI; I don't. If one of us has to leave, I'll go."

"But what would you do?" She frowned.

"I don't know. Something fun, I hope." He reached for her hand. "Teresa, I came back for you. Not the CBI. I took this job again to make sure you would be okay. But it's never been important to me in its own right. If we can't work together and get married, then I'll quit."

She was quiet as she drove, and he didn't like the anxious look in her eyes.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"You won't...go back to conning people, will you?"

He squeezed her hand. "No, sweetheart. Not while I have you in my life."

She cast a quick glance at him. "I see. So I have to stay with you for the good of society."

He chuckled. "You can tell your brothers that."

"Nice. I'll wait until they all stop believing I'm pregnant."

"Is that why you aren't in a hurry to set a date? To prove we don't have to get married?" He was relieved to have an explanation other than secret doubts for her reluctance to name the day she would marry him.

"I know it's silly," she sighed.

"Usually I love it when you're silly, but in this case I have to admit I'm not wild about it. But I'm glad to know you're not getting cold feet."

"You pick now not to know what I'm thinking?" she exclaimed, shaking her head.

"Even I'm not infallible. Especially if there's a possibility the answer might not be the one I want."

She smiled. "It's nice to know I'm not the only one who can be insecure."

"You have absolutely no reason to be insecure, ever," he told her firmly.

"Thanks. And neither do you." She squeezed his hand, then let go so she could make a turn.

mmm

The day was nearly over before Jane decided to put Fischer out of her increasing misery. She'd ransacked the place looking for her badge after she and Cho returned, to no avail. When Lisbon came out of her office to see what was up, Fischer regarded her nervously.

"Is something wrong, Agent Fischer?" Lisbon asked.

"I...I can't seem to find my badge," Fischer admitted. "I know I had it this morning."

Lisbon looked at the desk behind Fischer. "Isn't that it there?"

Jane congratulated himself on looking completely innocent as Fischer gaped at the badge, then pounced on it. "Yes! Um. So I guess everything's okay," Fischer said, perplexed but relieved.

"Good. See you tomorrow," Lisbon said pleasantly.

"Good night," Fischer said, making a hasty departure.

Lisbon pointed at Jane. "You. No more practical jokes." Then she turned to Cho. "And you. No more letting him."

"Right," Cho said. "Good night, Boss. Jane." He made his escape.

Lisbon regarded Jane with exasperation. "What did I tell you about playing nice?"

He grinned. "Oh, please. That was harmless. But if it will make you feel better, you can take me home and punish me. I'm due a sound spanking."

"Hush," she said, blushing delightfully. "But you can make it up to me by cooking me a good meal. And telling me who the killer is."

"The first I can do. The second is going to take me a while to figure out."

"Really? You're losing your touch," she teased. "Or is this case too pedestrian and banal to hold your interest?"

"It is," he said, "but in this case I'm more distractible than usual. There's this pretty girl, you see, and I'm almost sure she likes me."

She rolled her eyes as they headed for her office. "Who? Fischer? Is that why you stole her badge, because it's the adult equivalent of pulling her pigtails?"

"I will definitely not be pulling her pigtails. But you shouldn't feel bad for her. She practically asked me out this morning."

"Oh, she did not."

"She called me a tragic hero." Jane enjoyed the flummoxed look on Lisbon's face for a moment before she burst into laughter. He waited for her to get herself back under control, then added, "She feels bad for me because I'm determined not to date again and she's convinced I'm sweet on you."

"And she will stop feeling bad for you the minute she finds out the reason you're not dating anymore," Lisbon retorted.

"You're not jealous?"

"Why should I be? You're the one who's accountable to me, and you're not interested. Now if I find out you actually asked her out, we'll have a problem." Lisbon went back to work, doing a passable job of looking uninterested.

He chuckled. "No need to worry about that, my dear. I know perfectly well how lucky I am that you still have anything to do with me at all. I won't make you regret it."

"Good," she muttered. A moment later, she glanced up at him and gave him a mischievous grin, his favorite of her expressions. "Or I might have to spank you after all."

He grinned back, then leaned back on the couch and settled in for a nap.

mmm

The next morning, Lisbon insisted that they drive to work in separate cars, so Jane was by himself when Fischer called to him just outside the door to the building.

"Good morning, Agent Fischer," he replied, smiling. "Any thoughts about the case? I often find a good night's sleep does wonders for the cognitive processes."

"No thoughts about the case, no. But I did figure something else out," she replied. "Is there somewhere we can talk where we won't be overheard?"

Had she twigged to a member of the conspiracy already? Not possible, he thought. But maybe she thought she had. He hoped it was someone he wouldn't mind messing with, because this could really make his week. "Sure. I'll show you my favorite park bench."

He led her to the nearby Capitol grounds and settled in the bench with the best view. Fischer sat down beside him, looking nervous. No, he corrected himself, anticipatory. This should be good.

"I found out who Agent Lisbon's fiancé is," she announced.

Jane managed to confine his reaction to raised eyebrows. "That was fast. But I'm a little confused about why you feel the need to tell me, since I already know who he is."

"Of course you do. Because it's you." She folded her arms.

He laughed. "What, you actually think the reasonable, law-abiding Agent Lisbon would agree to marry a con artist?"

"I think she'd agree to marry the man she's stuck by for ten years, despite all the crap he's pulled."

"You're confusing loyalty with love."

"No, I'm sure they both played a role," she replied. "The day Red John was killed, you went home with her. You left her apartment the next morning and went on your little vacation. Then when you come back, suddenly she's engaged."

He wondered whether it was worth sticking to the con at this point. Probably not. "True. But as Lisbon is continually telling me, you can't build a case from strictly circumstantial evidence."

"You went home with her last night, too."

Dropping his nonchalant facade, he turned to face Fischer. "You were following us? Why?" he demanded.

"Your assessment of Agent Lisbon is only valid if you can take an objective view of her. Obviously that's not the case."  
"Show me a person who can be objective about someone they've worked with for ten years and I'll show you a robot," Jane scoffed. "You had to know my assessment of her isn't objective. But I'd argue it's better informed than anyone else's."

"Not if you're blinded by love."

"I'm never blinded by anything."

"But you don't deny you love her."

"I deny that it's any of your business." He took a breath and tried to calm down.

"Sorry, but the FBI says otherwise. For one thing, as lax as the CBI has been lately with its personnel policies, she can be fired for being involved with someone under her supervision."

"You have absolutely no evidence that anything happened last night other than my crashing on her couch because I haven't found an apartment yet," he retorted.

"No, but I bet the Professional Standards Unit could turn something up. Do you think she'd lie under direct questioning?" Fischer eyed him with an interrogator's glare, reminding him that she wasn't a rookie.

Jane thought about whether LaRoche could be convinced to turn a blind eye. He was pretty sure he could, but it would all be pointless, because Lisbon was not going to lie under formal questioning. "She doesn't need to. I'll quit, the minute we're back in the building, and the problem is solved. Is that what you wanted?"

"No. And just because you quit doesn't mean Lisbon's off the hook. She still committed a breach of the CBI's professional standards, knowingly and repeatedly."

"Then what do you want?" Jane demanded, though he already knew.

"Come work with me, help me ferret out the moles in the FBI."

"I thought you were looking for moles in the CBI."

"The ones in the FBI pose a much greater threat."

"For you, maybe. Right now they're not bothering me. Why should I put myself in that situation?" he asked.

"Because if you do, nobody will care that you're shacking up with Agent Lisbon. You can even marry her if you like."

He bristled at her tone, but kept his own even. "I don't need your permission. And I don't like blackmail."

"You've certainly used it often enough," Fischer said, giving him a little smile. "Come on, Jane. We both know where this is going to end up. You aren't going to sacrifice Lisbon's career just because you're pissed off at me."

"I wouldn't be so sure. Maybe she's ready for a change too. Maybe we're secretly planning to move to Florida."

Fischer rolled her eyes. "Fine. Talk it over with her. I won't take any action until the end of the day."

She got up and walked off, just as Jane's phone buzzed with a text. It was Lisbon, demanding to know where he was.

_Come join me on our bench_, he texted back. _Things to discuss._

_If this is about the case, just tell me_, she texted back. Obviously she hadn't drunk her second cup of coffee yet.

He pondered how to respond, and then decided not to. His silence would move her to action very effectively, he knew. She'd be here in under five minutes.

He strolled over to the coffee cart and ordered the biggest, sweetest coffee they offered. They were both going to need it.


	9. Decisions

**Author's Note: **Sorry this took so long! My muse has been trying to tempt me onto another project, but I'm determined to finish something before starting something else! Thanks for your patience and support, and I hope this doesn't disappoint. It's a little cheesy near the end, but I figured we could use a little cheese. You know, to go with our whine.:) And yes, that's the level my sense of humor seems to be stuck at right now...

**Chapter 9: Decisions**

Lisbon couldn't believe she was this annoyed before 9 a.m. Though it was not, she had to admit, the first time Jane had managed to derail her day before it even got started. If this was payback for the perfectly reasonable precaution of driving in separately, she was going to hide his tea bags. Every single one.

Her irritation rose to anger as she hurried into the park to find him lounging on the usual bench, a cup in each hand. At least he'd had the good sense to get her coffee. Still, she refused to give him the satisfaction of reaching for it, putting her hands on her hips and demanding, "What's so important that you had to drag me out here before I could even check my email?"

"Have a seat, my dear, and some caffeine." He held the larger cup out to her.

"What did you do?" she demanded, dread pooling in her stomach.

"For once, I am not responsible for our predicament. Well, perhaps partly. But really, once you decided to start lying to the FBI, I had no choice but to follow your lead, did I?"

She dropped onto the bench. "Oh, sheep dip."

Jane chuckled. "Drink," he urged, putting the cup into her hand.

She did, because she was afraid she might start screaming if she didn't.

Jane said, "Fischer followed us last night. I tried to fend her off, but you know how cops get when they have a viable suspect in their clutches.'

She must really look bad, she thought, if he was trying to distract her with insults. "She knows."

"That there's no mystery fiancé, yes."

This was going to be bad. She'd made too many enemies over the years protecting Jane; no one was going to cut her any slack. She stopped sipping the coffee, suddenly afraid she might be sick.

"Oh, relax, Teresa. She's not interested in getting you fired," Jane said, as if she were overreacting.

"Then what does she want?" she demanded.

"Me." He gave her a cocky grin that made her want to hit him. She couldn't believe he was messing with her at a time like this.

"Keep it up and she can have you," she grumbled.

"Strictly in a professional sense, of course," he said. "At least, I think so. She must know she can't compete with you on a personal level." He slid a hand along the back of the bench and began sifting her hair through his fingers.

"Jane, this is serious." She was not going to let him get out of a real discussion just because his fingers felt so good stroking her hair and neck. But wow, it felt amazing. She was calming down despite herself.

"Yes, it is. But don't worry. I have no intention of letting her take anything away from you." There was an edge to his voice that made her look at him.

"She wants you to go over to the FBI. And if you agree, she'll keep quiet," she guessed.

"Very good, Teresa. She's given me until the end of the day to make my decision. But of course there's no real choice to make. I'll let her think she's bested me for now." He grimaced, and she sighed internally at the thought of Jane with a wounded ego.

Jane sipped at his tea while she thought about the situation. The FBI must be desperate to resort to outright blackmail. That didn't make it sit any better. "Jane—"

"Don't worry, my dear. I'll bide my time and have my revenge. They'll never see it coming."

Oh God, she thought. Jane was declaring war on the FBI. "Jane, if they need you that badly, maybe you should consider cooperating with them."

"Oh, I'll catch the bad guys for them," he said nonchalantly. "But you are my fiancee. Anyone who threatens you must pay."

Lisbon stomped down the girlish thrill that he was willing to defend her. "I don't need you to fight my battles."

"We are engaged. There are no my battles or your battles, only our battles."

After years of trying to make him understand the concept of partnership, it was a little maddening to find out that he understood it perfectly well, but only, apparently, in a romantic context. Although she suspected that his idea of shared battles was that they did everything his way and he'd let her help as long as she played the role he specified for her. "True. Just like there are only our decisions. And yet you seem to have made yours unilaterally."

He stopped sipping his tea and stared at her. "You feel it merits discussion?"

"I do, yes. Because it's one thing for you to go nobly off to the FBI to save my job, but we both know it won't end there. Next time they need to reel you in, they'll make the same threat. And I don't want to be the leash they use to keep you in line." Which was a little ironic, she acknowledged, since she'd been trying desperately to keep him in line for years. The difference was that she actually cared about his wellbeing.

"What are you suggesting? That you quit?" She'd never seen him so shocked. He recovered quickly, though. "No, Teresa. You are not making any more sacrifices on my behalf. It's my turn."

"What sacrifice? This job hasn't been fun for a while, and it'll be even less fun knowing that you could get me fired at any moment when I'm not even getting to catch a bad guy in return." Not to mention nerve-wracking.

"I won't get you fired," he said dismissively.

"You were the one who said I didn't have to work," she pointed out. "Are you going back on that?"

"Not at all. Hand in your resignation today. I'll do the same, and we'll be on a flight to Rome before lunch." He was obviously dismissing any possibility that she would actually do it.

The thing was, she wasn't so sure. The FBI had come in and broken up her team, forced her to take in a stranger, and now was blackmailing Jane. The idea of just walking away from it all was tempting. Cho would handle things just fine. "Chicago," she said.

"What?" Jane had obviously been thinking about something else.

"A flight to Chicago. I want you to meet my family. We can get married while we're there. Then off to Ireland, and then Rome if you want," she said.

"I thought we were getting married here," Jane said, surprised.

"You want to argue about it?"

"No," he said quickly. "Not at all. Chicago city hall it is. We can buy rings there." He got to his feet. "Cho'll be disappointed though. Not to mention Grace."

She stood too. "You're right. So we get married here, then stop in Chicago on our way to Ireland."

Jane frowned. "I don't want you to get in such a hurry that you wish you'd done it differently later. Are you sure this is what you want?"

"I just want to be done with this whole mess," she admitted.

"Meaning our engagement?"

"No. Well, yes. I'm tired of thinking about the wedding. I just want to be married and get on with our life. Can we do that?" She wasn't a party planner, and the more she tried to figure out what she wanted, the more stressed out she got.

"Of course. Anything you want. I don't care where or when, as long as it's soon," he said, reaching for her free hand. "But if the planning is the problem, allow me to suggest a solution. Let me take care of it."

It was tempting, if only because she was curious as to what he'd come up with. "We'll talk about it later, okay? First things first. We solve the case. And then we deal with Agent Fischer."

"What are you going to do?"

She realized this was probably the first time he'd ever been willing to follow her lead. She couldn't help wanting to take advantage of it. "I can't tell you. I have to show you."

Jane grinned. "Oh? I look forward to that."

"What I need you to do is solve this case. And you're on your own for lunch. I need to talk to Cho."

"I can't come along?" He gave her a hurt look that she was sure was an act. Well, mostly sure.

"Not this time. Besides, you're going to be showing Agent Fischer what she's letting herself in for. Go interview the coworkers and pick out the guilty one."

"In the most dramatic, disruptive way possible?" he guessed.

"If you can get yourself punched in the nose, so much the better."

"But I don't want a black eye in the wedding pictures," he pointed out.

"Fine. Just get someone to chase you while shouting threats. That's always one of my favorite parts," she said dryly.

"I'm always happy to oblige you, my dear," he replied.

They walked back to the CBI hand in hand.

mmm

Fischer looked surprised when Lisbon told her to take Jane to interview the victim's coworkers, but she was cheerful enough that it was obvious she had no idea what she was in for. Cho was wearing a definite, though small, smirk as he watched them go. When he came into Lisbon's office an hour later with the results of the alibis he'd checked, he sat down and made himself comfortable.

"So," he said. "What'd Fischer do to piss you off?"

"I've hardly spoken to her today," Lisbon replied.

"Uh huh." He folded his arms.

"You don't have lunch plans, do you?"

He gave her a look. "I do now. Thai or Indian?"

"You pick," she said. "Let's go early and beat the rush. 11:30?"

"Sounds good." He got up. "Jane was right. The family's alibis checked out."

"Thanks." She tried to focus on what she was doing, but she was distracted by a nagging worry. Turning Jane loose to wreak havoc had felt like a good plan at the time, but Fischer wasn't used to his ways. She might not be able to keep him from getting hurt. She should have sent Cho with them. He wouldn't have interfered with whatever Jane was going to do, but he'd have kept him from getting hurt.

Her phone buzzed, and she grabbed it to find a text from Jane: _Stop worrying. I have no intention of needing medical attention today. I'm far too curious to see what you have planned._

_Good_, she texted back. _Get some lunch on your way back. Cho and I are grabbing ours early._

_If you're trying to make me jealous by going out with other men, it's working,_ he responded.

She shook her head, grinning a little. _Good_.

_You're being very naughty today,_ he sent after a moment. _If you want me to spank you, all you have to do is ask, you know._

She blushed, grateful there was no one around to see. _Stop that_.

_You're right. Why waste your lovely blushes when I'm not there to see them? Don't be long at lunch. I miss you already_.

_Don't get hurt. I'll be here when you get back_.

She put the phone down, smiling, and forced her attention back to her work.

mmm

The restaurant was nearly empty when Lisbon and Cho entered. They were seated right away, and Lisbon examined the menu, wondering if Jane would object to kissing her later if she had a curry. Since the plan she was working on involved some kissing, she decided to go for the chicken tikka masala instead. She did agree to the garlic naan, though.

"So what's up?" Cho prompted.

"Fischer knows I'm engaged to Jane. She followed us last night. She told Jane she'd report me unless he agrees to go work for the FBI."

"Huh. They must be desperate," Cho said, taking a sip of his water.

"I guess so." Lisbon paused as the waiter brought the naan, reaching for it eagerly.

"So what's the plan?" Cho asked.

"Jane wants to give in for now. But I don't think that's going to work for very long," she said. "And I don't want him destroying the FBI."

"Why not? You realize they came after you in the first place to get Jane to come back, right?"

Lisbon paused, surprised. "You think so?"

"Yeah. It's the only thing that makes sense. Nobody in their right mind could think you were part of Red John's network."

"Well, that just proves I'm right. They'll just keep threatening me every time they need to control Jane." She grimaced at the thought.

"Probably. What are we going to do about it?"

She loved him for that "we." But she shook her head. "Not we. I. You're ready to move up, Kimball. And I'm ready to move on. I'm going to resign and get out of your way."

"You're not in my way," he said immediately.

"I'm still going. Jane doesn't really want to be in law enforcement any more, and I need a break. So we're going to get married and go on a long honeymoon. Then we'll decide what comes next."

He smiled. "Good. You both deserve to say 'the hell with it' and go be happy. You let me deal with the FBI. Just don't forget to invite me to the wedding."

"Are you kidding? We wouldn't think of doing it without you."

Their meals came, and they ate quickly. Cho insisted on getting the check. "Engagement gift," he said.

"Thanks. And no wedding gifts, by the way. Jane apparently has a pile of money he hasn't touched all these years. We don't need anything."

"Gifts aren't about what you need," Cho replied. "Thanks for the heads up that you're leaving. I don't like it, but I understand it. I'll do whatever I can to support you."

"Thanks, Kimball. I appreciate it."

"You just promise me that if you need someone to knock some sense into Jane, I'm the first one you call."

She chuckled. "I promise. But I plan to take care of that myself."

mmm

When they got back to the office, Jane sprang up from his couch and greeted them with a broad grin.

"Where's Fischer?" Lisbon asked, filled with foreboding. She wouldn't put it past Jane to have hypnotized her into going on a long vacation or tricking her onto a trans-Pacific flight.

"The bathroom," Jane said. "She needed a change of clothes."

"What did you do?" she asked, though she had the distinct feeling she didn't want to know.

Jane grinned. "I'm sure you'll find her version more entertaining."

"I'd feel a lot better about that if your idea of entertaining wasn't so twisted," she muttered. "Did you at least make headway on the case?"

"Your lack of faith in me is really hurtful, Lisbon. You told me to solve it, and solve it I did. Karl's keeping an eye on our murderer in the interrogation room. I think Cho will enjoy this one."

Cho gave a snort. "Really enjoy, or the kind where you get a kick out of me hating it?"

"A little from column A, a little from column B," Jane said airily.

Lisbon folded her arms. "Details, Jane."

"Nothing terribly interesting. Just your garden variety embezzlement, leading to blackmail, leading to murder." He looked past Lisbon's shoulder. "Ah, Fischer. Just in time. Lisbon was just about to congratulate us on our brilliant wrap up of this case."

Lisbon turned to find Fischer looking freshly scrubbed, her hair still damp and wearing different clothes—and shoes—than this morning. "Agent Fischer," she greeted her. "I take it there was some difficulty apprehending the suspect?"

Fischer didn't look like a typical Jane victim. She wasn't scowling or glaring, and her tone was almost cheerful. "Just a little. Jane thought he'd have some fun by provoking the suspect into running. Which is not a real smart thing to do in an lab where they're studying environmentally friendly fertilizers. I'm all cleaned up now thanks to the showers in the gym, but I'll be smelling shit for days. So will he, though, and he didn't get a shower."

Lisbon made a mental note to have the interrogation room sanitized. Cho looked at Jane and said, "You thought I'd enjoy interrogating someone covered in shit?"

"Well, normally it takes some effort to identify the bullshit. But in this case, it's right there for everyone to see," Jane chortled. "Besides, it will give your famous poker face a real challenge."

Cho looked at Lisbon meaningfully, and she said, "I think Cho can sit this one out. Your collar, your interrogation, Agent Fischer."

Fischer's smile dimmed. Jane looked like he was about to guffaw until Lisbon continued, "If he doesn't want to kill Jane, take him with you. He should be able to sort the metaphorical bullshit out from the literal."

Jane looked appalled. "I think Agent Fischer can handle it. I was just thinking of going on a coffee run. Orders?"

Fischer gave a slow, predatory smile. "Coffee can wait. C'mon, Jane. Our collar, our interrogation!"

Jane turned to Lisbon, but she just grinned at him. "What, don't you have any biofeedback tricks for smell?"

"Of course," he replied. "But you don't. And I was planning on having my afternoon nap on your couch."

"Change of plans," she said. "This might be a good time to get reacquainted with your attic. Now go on. I'm sure poor Karl's had enough for one day."

Jane shot her a look, then gestured for Fischer to precede him out of the bullpen. Lisbon looked at Cho, and they grinned at each other briefly before heading to their desks to get back to work.

mmm

It was only a few minutes later when Jane sauntered into Lisbon's office and headed for her couch. She was about to stop him when she realized that, if all went according to plan, the condition of the couch would shortly stop being important to her. She felt a little pang at the thought. "That was fast," she said.

"It's hard to make up lies when you're desperate for a shower," Jane replied. "Fortunately, I didn't need to feel his pulse or anything. Fischer and I stood as close to the door as possible. Why did you do that to me? I only did what you wanted me to."

"We don't want her to think it's a conspiracy," she replied, resisting the smile tugging at her mouth. "I'll make it up to you later."

"Yes, you will," he replied, sprawling out on the couch facing her and giving her his best come-hither look.

"Much later," she clarified, going back to her work. It was quite a while before she was able to concentrate, though.

Eventually, Jane pretended to wake up from his pretend nap and wandered off to make tea. Lisbon barely had time to resume her train of thought before Fischer walked in. "Do you have a moment, Agent Lisbon?"

"If you want to file a complaint about Jane, I'll email you the form," Lisbon said.

Fischer chuckled. "I bet you have that form memorized by now. But no. I knew what I was in for with Jane. Especially after I made him mad at me."

"Mad at you?" People generally didn't realize they'd ticked Jane off until it was too late.

"By threatening you. I wanted to tell you, it's nothing personal. It was just the only way I could think of to get him to agree to help."

Lisbon stared at her. "You're admitting to blackmail?"

Fischer shrugged. "I like to think of it more as exchanging favors."

"Will your boss think of it that way?" Two could play at this game, Lisbon thought.

"It was his idea. There aren't a lot of ways to motivate a man like Jane. But he'll do anything for you." Fischer smiled. "You're a lucky woman."

"That's not a popular opinion," Lisbon said.

"Oh, I'm not denying you went through your share of trouble. There's probably more ahead, knowing Jane. But then, you know that."

"I do. But if you know how much of a pain in the ass he can be, why do you want him so bad?" Lisbon frowned.

"Why did you put up with him all those years? He closes cases like no one else. Even today, when he was out to humiliate me, he still fingered the killer right away. We need that to clean house. And just think how many lives he could save if he worked on national security cases." Fischer leaned forward on the desk. "Terrorists are getting smarter, Agent Lisbon. We need to use every resource we have to stay ahead of them."

"I agree," Lisbon said. "But coercing Jane won't get you his best work. You're buying more trouble than you can imagine."

"Maybe at first. But we know how to keep him motivated. You'll find your career path much smoother from here on out, as long as he does what we need him to." Fischer straightened and folded her arms.

Jane chose that moment to return, carrying his teacup and a mug of fresh coffee for Lisbon. "Sorry to interrupt, ladies. Nothing important, I hope?"

Lisbon said, "Oh, we were just discussing the FBI's plan to make you into their trained monkey by rewarding you with my success. If you behave, I might end up as Director of the CBI. Think you can do it?"

Jane sipped his tea, then declared, "For you, my love, I am capable of anything."

Up to and including murder, she thought. In a way, being the center of Patrick Jane's world was a heavy responsibility.

Fischer looked back and forth between them, as if aware she was missing something. "Well, I'll get back to work," she said, leaving.

Jane settled back on the couch with his tea, to all appearances content. "Have you decided what you want to do?" he asked after a moment.

"Yes. Patience, Patrick. All will be revealed," she said solemnly.

He grinned. "Stop stealing my lines."

mmm

Resigning via email was tacky, Lisbon knew, but since she hadn't been able to get on the interim director's calendar to meet with him personally, it was what she had to do. He must have read it, because half an hour later an email went out to all members of the CBI announcing that at the end of next week, Teresa Lisbon would no longer be a CBI agent. Her service was appreciated, and the director was sure everyone would join him in wishing her success in her future endeavors.

"Translation: don't let the door hit you on your way out," she grumbled. She'd made this job her life, and they couldn't even make a token effort to change her mind? It really must be time to leave.

Jane poked his head in the door. "Did you just resign? There's an incipient riot gathering in the bullpen."

"Yep." She got to her feet and grabbed her jacket. "Let's go."

"Where?" he asked.

She grabbed his hand and towed him into the bullpen, where quite a few people had gathered. They turned to look at her expectantly.

"As I think you've all heard, I'm resigning my position here at CBI. It's been a pleasure working with you all, and in many ways I'm sorry to leave. But I'm going to start a new chapter in my life. And I'm looking forward to it."

Fischer looked stunned, but Lisbon wasn't through yet. Ron asked, "Where will you be going?"

Lisbon grinned over at Jane. "Well, I'm not exactly sure. I guess you could say I'm running away to join the circus."

Jane grimaced. "Lisbon, that's—"

She shut him up with a kiss. After a moment of shocked silence around them, she became aware of whispering and the sound of money changing hands. When she took one hand out of Jane's curls to grab his ass, there were a few feminine whoops and one "you go, girl!" Jane, of course, had to retaliate by bending her backwards like they were on the cover of some cheesy romance novel, leading to a few catcalls.

When they came up for air, it was to applause. Lisbon felt her face heat up despite her best efforts while Jane gave their audience a big toothy grin.

"And now," he said, "we bid you all a good night."

Knowing chuckles followed them as they hurried to the elevator. When they were safely inside, Lisbon asked breathlessly, "Well?"

Jane backed her into the corner of the elevator and kissed her soundly again. "I loved it. Marvelous exit. Can we leave that way every night?"

She chuckled a little, pushing him away as the doors opened. "Behave yourself and we'll see."

"Ah. So you hate it when the FBI coerces me, but it's okay when you do it?"

"Of course." She grinned at him. "Nobody pushes you around except me."

He grabbed her around the waist as they exited and planted another kiss on her. "Absolutely. And you said you didn't know how to be married."

"Is that all it takes?" she asked curiously. The enormity of what she'd just done was beginning to sink in.

"No. But it's an excellent start." Jane squeezed her waist in his arm, then loosened his grip so they could walk. "And stop worrying. We'll both look back on this someday as one of the best things we ever did."

"I hope so," she sighed.

"I'm going to make sure of it," he promised.


	10. Ambush

**Author's Note: **Thanks for all the reviews of the last chapter! I'm glad most of you liked the cheesiness, because this has some of that too. I just really need something lighthearted to keep my sanity while the show is so dark and tense. I hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 10: Ambush**

As Lisbon's final day at work approached, Jane noted the steady increase in her level of tension. Unfortunately, he couldn't chalk it up to Fischer's repeated attempts to "reason" with either or both of them. Fortunately, he had a plan in place to deal with it. As they got ready for work on the final day, he began putting the finishing touches on it.

"Could you wear your hair down today?" he asked as she finished her cup of coffee and pushed the remaining half of her eggs around her plate. She was dressed, wearing his favorite emerald green blouse with the scoop neck, but her hair was still damp, hanging around her face waiting to be dried and styled.

"Why?" she grumbled.

Oh, she was definitely having a case of buyer's remorse. Or was that quitter's remorse? He would turn it around, he knew, but it was still a little painful to watch. He pulled out a hopeful smile. "Because I love it that way? You can make a request in return. Would you like me to wear a tie?"

"Do you own a tie?" she asked, looking at him in surprise.

"I do, actually." He was a little worried he was giving the game away; if she looked closely, she'd surely realize that he'd shaved more carefully than usual and that his hair was freshly trimmed. Though she hadn't noticed it yesterday when he'd gone to the barber's on his lunch break, so maybe not.

"I can't really imagine you wearing one," she said, eyeing him speculatively. "A bowtie, maybe."

He laughed. "Sorry. I don't have one of those. I guess that settles it, then. No tie."

"There's no need to dress up for our last day of work," she sighed. "Especially since I'm going to make you help me carry my stuff."

"Rumor has it Cho is springing for a nice restaurant for your good-bye lunch," he noted.

She grimaced. "I wish he wouldn't. It feels perverse for him to thank me for landing him with this thankless job."

"If he didn't want it, he wouldn't have taken it," Jane pointed out. That was the great thing about Cho: you knew where you stood. "Anyway, you earned this lunch. You earned a medal, really, but since California's too broke to buy you one, take the lunch."

"I guess." She pushed back from the table and stood, carrying her plate to the sink before heading upstairs to finish her morning routine.

Jane worked on cleaning up, then did some quick texting to ensure all the components of his plan were in place. It always paid to double check when airline travel was involved.

When Lisbon came back downstairs, he smiled and kissed her lightly. "You look amazing," he said.

"Yeah, well my hair's not going to look amazing on the other side of a red-eye to Chicago," she pointed out. "A ponytail would have been more practical."

"A ponytail wouldn't have helped, because I would have undone it the moment you fell asleep. Half the reason I love you is for your beautiful hair."

She smirked. "Have I told you lately how weird you are?" Then she frowned. "Wait. Is that why you tried to get me to cut it, way back when? So you wouldn't love me?"

"Don't be absurd. You would be lovable bald," he replied. "I do confess to an urge to remove a temptation, though."

She "accidentally" elbowed him as she walked past to the door. "I promise to wear it down on our honeymoon."

"Which comes after our wedding. Which is when, exactly?" he asked. "After we get back from Chicago?"

"It's not like we'll have anything better to do," she replied.

He would be worried about her refusal to talk seriously about the ceremony if he wasn't so confident in his knowledge of her. She'd been right when they'd first talked about it in Napa: he needed to just hand her the plane tickets.

It was a good thing he intended to do just that.

mmm

The day passed quickly. Lisbon spent most of the morning going over paperwork with Cho, occasionally putting a personal item in the box set aside for that purpose. Jane spent it surreptitiously working on his plans and saying good-bye to his couch, which he would miss. But it had been old when he'd claimed it a decade ago, and he'd reluctantly concluded there was no point in taking it with him. There was no room at Lisbon's place, and they wouldn't be moving until they decided whether to stay in Sacramento or start fresh somewhere else.

The lunch was enjoyable, though Jane wasn't a fan of chili dogs. He and Cho had agreed to make Lisbon believe she would be subjected to someplace with multiple forks in the place settings, but Cho took the Major Crimes division to their regular hangout down the street, where the beer was cold and the walls were covered in sports paraphernalia and the food was reminiscent of what a stadium would offer. Lisbon loved it—to the point of misting up a little—and that was what counted.

After lunch he could see it starting to really get to her. She'd spent so much time here that the thought of saying good-bye was overwhelming. He was very glad he'd planned things the way he had. Cho was on board, which was also comforting. He'd known Lisbon longer, and in some ways he understood her better.

Jane had pointed out repeatedly that no one worked the full day on their last day of employment, but Lisbon just said that she didn't trust him as an expert since he'd never had a regular job. He prodded her a little by offering to help her pack around 2 p.m., but she banished him from her office, saying she'd rather do it herself after she finished her exit paperwork. She did remember to remind him to pack his tea and teacup, so at least he knew she wasn't mad at him.

Around 4 p.m., Cho went into action, going into Lisbon's office and saying, "We're up." Jane followed him in, as if curious.

"You're kidding. Now?" Lisbon replied, glancing at the computer screen to check the time.

"I got this if you want to get going," Cho offered.

This was the risky part, Jane thought. She might actually agree, in which case Plan B would go into effect.

"No. I'm still on the job," she said, getting up. "What do we got?"

"Dead body in a state park. It's on the edge of town, not far."

"Then let's go. Jane, you're with us. Fischer can stay and get the phones."

"Just what I was thinking," Jane grinned.

mmm

The park was as beautiful as he remembered it. There was a little flower garden on the slope of a hill leading down to a creek and a gazebo perfectly placed among the late-summer blooms. The body was sprawled face down in the shadow of the gazebo. Jane scanned the trees but couldn't see anyone hiding there.

"Is he a priest?" Lisbon asked, looking stricken as she took in the long black robe. "Who called this in? Where are they?"

"Oh, hey, boss," Rigsby called, starting down the slope toward them. Van Pelt was a few steps behind.

Lisbon turned. "What are you guys doing here?"

"We got a call," Van Pelt replied. "Is this your case?"

Cho said, "Yeah, so back off, Feds."

The couple grinned. Rigsby said, "So what's the story?"

"We're trying to figure that out," Lisbon said. "Jane? Theories?"

"Hm." Jane wandered over to the body, kneeling down to examine it closely as he normally would. He was grateful the man was facing away from him; that would make this easier. "Lisbon! Come look at this." He stood and pointed.

"What is it?" She strode over to stand beside him, then sucked in a shocked breath and walked around to get a good look at the man's face. Her expression made Jane want to put his arms around her and confess all, but it was too late now. "Father Riley?"

The priest's eyes opened. "Hello, Teresa."

Lisbon jumped, one hand going to her heart as she stumbled back a step with a muffled shriek. Jane moved to steady her but stopped when she regained her composure, careful to stay out of punching distance.

But he'd underestimated her childhood training. She drew in a breath but didn't yell or come after him, holding herself still. "What's going on?"

Jane was a little disturbed that she addressed Father Riley rather than him. The priest got to his feet and brushed himself off, smiling. "I was told there was need of my services. Your young man is very persuasive."

Lisbon stared at him, then at Jane. Then at Cho, Rigsby, and Van Pelt, who were all grinning madly. She was still too stunned to really react, but he could see she had figured it out, so he smiled at her and said, "Welcome to our wedding, my dear."

She gaped at him, glancing uncertainly at her priest before saying, "But—this is a joke, right?"

Father Riley said, "I assure you I take marriage quite seriously, Teresa."

She had a moment of panic where she was clearly afraid she was about to be told she either had to marry him or stop sleeping with him to avoid going to hell. But she quickly recovered, jerking her head at Jane and hissing, "Jane. A word?"

He smiled confidently at everyone as he followed her to the creek bank. She whirled on him and said, "What the hell, Jane? You can't throw a surprise wedding!"

"I beg to differ. Allow me to point out the priest—"

"Shut. Up," she ground out. Then she put her face in her hands and took a deep breath.

He stepped close to her and put his hands on her shoulders. "Breathe, Teresa. You can kill me later. Right now you're going to calm down, and then we'll go greet our guests and promise to be with each other forever."

"Jane," she whispered, looking at him with desperation. "I can't get married here, now."

"Why not?"

Her mouth opened and closed as she tried to think of a reply. Finally she managed to say, "I'm wearing boots!"

It took everything Jane had not to burst out laughing, but he managed to confine himself to a grin. "You wear boots all the time, darling."

"I can't get married in boots and a blazer," she protested. "They're not even high heels!"

"Why not? It's what you wear every day. When I think of you, that's what you're wearing. Well, if you're wearing anything at all," he couldn't resist adding.

She gave him the look that meant she was punching him in her mind.

"But that's what makes it perfect, Teresa. Just you and me, the way we are. The way we fell in love. Not all dressed up and pretending to be people we aren't." He looked into her eyes, willing her to see his sincerity, and saw her begin to give in.

"You've been planning this all week?"

"I have. The license is in my pocket, and our witnesses have the rings. We have your priest—who gave me the oddest look when I introduced myself. Someday you'll have to tell me exactly what you've been confessing to him. And we have our friends."

"But my family—"

Jane grinned and turned her so she could see her brothers and their families walking down toward them.

"Oh my God!" Lisbon stared only for a moment before running forward and flinging herself at her nearest brother. A moment later she was lost in the midst of the three men, looking for all the world like they were in a football huddle.

Jane watched the family reunion with great interest. It was worth every penny it had cost him to fly the entire Lisbon family out here at fairly short notice. After a while, he went to stand with Cho, Rigsby, and Van Pelt, the closest he had to family these days. Though he supposed he was about to acquire the boisterous one currently interrogating his fiancée from several directions at once. Tommy and Annie were the only two he'd met before, but he knew James and Peter from photos, and it was easy enough to pick out James' wife and kids since Peter's wife was clinging to his arm and keeping a firm grip on their son Jack.

Father Riley stayed by the gazebo, beaming at the family long after Jane would have expected him to become impatient. At last Lisbon freed herself from the group and led them over to Jane. "Everybody, this is Patrick Jane. Patrick, this is everybody. You know Tommy and Annie, but this is Peter, Karen, Jack, James, Mary, Timothy—"

"Tim!" corrected the not-quite adolescent with the dark mop of hair.

"Tim," Lisbon continued, "Sarah, and this little guy here is David." She ruffled her nephew's red hair, obviously a throwback to a distant ancestor since his mother was a zaftig blonde whose features owed a great deal to her obvious Dutch ancestry.

"Hello, Lisbon family. Thank you for coming," he said, smiling his most charming smile.

Mary grinned at him and engulfed him in a hug. "Thank you for the tickets and the hotel suite! And welcome to the family!"

He patted her back gently, aware of James' eyes on him. When Mary let him go, he moved a little closer to Rigsby, hoping his stature would discourage any brotherly wrath. Lisbon introduced her soon-to-be-former coworkers with enthusiasm, obviously enjoying this meeting of her two families.

She had almost finished when Minelli arrived with his wife May, and that brought a fresh round of hugging and introductions. Jane waited for a temporary pause to say, "Madeleine sends her best wishes, but she had a school thing today and can't make it."

Lisbon nodded, obviously overwhelmed as she looked around at nearly everyone she cared about all in the same place. All expecting to watch her get married.

"I hate to rush you, Teresa," Jane continued, "but Father Riley does have an evening engagement. And we have reservations for dinner. I had to make them early so we'd still have time to pack and make our flight."

"But there's no reason to go to Chicago—" she began, then broke off. "We're not going to Chicago."

He chuckled. "Not for our honeymoon. I promised you Ireland, so Ireland it is." He held out his hand to her.

Her eyes got big with the realization of the major commitment she was about to make, but he was reassured that her pupils dilated at the same time. After a moment, she put her hand in his, and they went down to Father Riley, the others trailing behind them and arranging themselves so they could all see. Jane led Lisbon up the few steps to the gazebo where Father Riley waited with a smile.

"It is always a joy to marry two people in love," the priest began. "But it is also a great satisfaction when that couple has persevered against adversity. Patience, trust, and forgiveness are necessary ingredients in a good marriage, and it is reassuring that Teresa and Patrick have already demonstrated these qualities before committing to each other for the rest of their lives."

Jane reminded himself to find out exactly what Lisbon had been telling her priest all these years. It was a wonder the man hadn't driven him out of the church at the end of a crucifix if she'd told him half the sins he'd committed. He lost the thread of the speech as he reflected on all the things he'd done that had lessened the chances of this day ever happening.

Jane had worried that a second wedding would be a painful reminder of his first, but this simple ceremony in a beautiful park surrounded by family and friends couldn't be more different than the traditional affair he and Angela had had. And while Angela had looked at him with adoration and excitement from under her veil, Lisbon's expression was more of the "God, I hope this isn't a terrible mistake" variety. But that was okay. It was an expression he was used to seeing on her. He loved her all the more because she was purely herself as she promised to love, honor, and cherish him. He wouldn't have liked this nearly as much if she'd gotten all dolled up like a princess and beamed tearfully at him.

Cho stepped forward and handed him the ring, and he slid it onto her trembling finger. Father Riley was a traditionalist, so he obediently repeated, "With this ring, I thee wed."

Then it was Lisbon's turn. After a few moments, Jane turned to see what the delay was, only to find Van Pelt patting her pockets in dawning horror. He barely had time to register the disaster before Annie stepped forward and handed the ring to her aunt with a cheeky grin. She winked at Jane, and he winked back. That girl would go far, he thought. Though he bet that would be the last pickpocketing she ever did after her aunt got hold of her.

As Lisbon slid the ring on his finger, he felt tears threaten. He'd forgotten what it felt like to be claimed. His other ring had long been a symbol of guilt and failure, far removed from its original meaning. But this one represented Lisbon's promise to love him, and it made him feel at once exalted and humbled. He would never be worthy of her love, but he would spend the rest of his life trying to be.

"And now you may kiss," Father Riley said cheerfully, and Jane leaned forward to give her the chaste peck he thought would be the only thing allowed in front of this audience. But Lisbon surprised him, opening her mouth and sliding her hands into his hair. He smiled and did the same, trying to express his love and happiness with his lips and tongue while enjoying the silkiness of her hair in his fingers.

Then it was over, and they were married. He was Teresa Lisbon's husband, the luckiest bastard on the planet.

"Thank you, Father," he said.

"It was my pleasure. Now remember, I expect to see you in church once in a while, Patrick. You married a good woman, so make her happy by letting her believe she's saving your soul. At least at Christmas and Easter."

"I should be able to manage that," he replied. He was astonished as Lisbon hugged the priest, then thanked him with a smile before going down the steps to join her family, clinging tightly to his hand.

With all the hugging and chatter, it was quite a while before Jane managed to get everybody moving to the restaurant he'd chosen for their early dinner. He was painfully aware of the need to keep on schedule, wondering if he should postpone the flight so Lisbon could spend more time with her family. But though James invited her to ride with them, she chose to get in the back seat of Cho's SUV and lean against Jane, who slid his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. She was trembling a little, overcome by all the unaccustomed emotion.

"Are you okay?" he murmured.

"Mm hm." She slid her arm around his waist and hugged. "Thank you for making sure everybody I wanted there came."

"None of them would have missed it for the world," he assured her.

"That doesn't mean you're off the hook for ambushing me," she warned him, but the way she rubbed her nose against his neck told him she wasn't really angry.

"But just think. Now I'll stop bugging you to set a date," he pointed out. "And no one will expect you to go spend a thousand bucks on a dress you'll only wear once. Or throw you a bridal shower and expect you to wear a hat made out of a paper plate and bows."

"Nobody was going to do that," she said dismissively.

"I wouldn't be so sure if I were you. Van Pelt and Anne from Narcotics seemed to be strangely attracted to the idea."

Cho said, "And you should see what Rigsby wanted for the bachelor party."

Jane shuddered. "Don't tell me. I have enough fodder for my nightmares. See, Teresa? I saved us from a hideous fate. Now we're safely married, and all we have to do is go eat a good meal, listen to a few toasts, and make our escape."

"I'm not packed," she said, trying to sit up in alarm.

He held her against him. "Don't worry. Cho's going to take care of the office for us, and I packed most of our things last night while you were sleeping. We just need to stop by the apartment and throw a few last minute things in. And grab our passports."

She relaxed against him again. "Okay." She was quiet for a while, then said, "You realize this means we're spending our wedding night on an airplane."

He chuckled. "Yes, that is the only flaw in this plan. But I'll make it up to you on the honeymoon. Our first stop is a lovely suite at a very nice hotel in Dublin. We're there for several days, so if you don't feel like sightseeing right away, that's fine. Then we're off on a driving tour and will be staying in quaint bed and breakfasts and little inns."

"How long is this trip?" she asked.

"As long as we want it to be. If you like, we can hop over to England for a while, then take the Chunnel over to Paris. If we're still not ready to come back, there's Barcelona, Monte Carlo, and Rome, not to mention all the lovely places in between. Oh, and I hear Dubrovnik is beautiful."

"That sounds like months." She sounded like she was trying very hard to be okay with the idea. It would be an uphill battle getting her to learn to relax and play rather than work, but he looked forward to it.

"If you like. We could have Christmas in Switzerland. Or Chicago if you prefer. We can do whatever we want, Teresa." He threaded his fingers through hers and stroked her palm with his thumb, then put his mouth down to her ear to whisper, "I want to give you the world. Please let me."

She put her free hand on the back of his neck and pulled him down to devour his mouth. He decided to take that as a yes.

mmm

Jane had initially wanted to have the wedding dinner at a sophisticated restaurant, but when he'd put his guest list together and realized there were children and Lisbons involved, he'd switched gears. He'd ended up renting a small ballroom at the hotel where he'd put up their out of town guests and having his new wife's favorite Mom and Pop Italian place set up a buffet. This had the advantage of removing any concern about the open bar, since no one had to drive home except Cho and the Rigsbys, and they could take cabs.

The wedding cake he'd allowed Van Pelt to handle, since once he let the team in on the plan they'd all wanted to contribute. Cho was in charge of the limo to the airport; Rigsby had wrangled the arriving Lisbons and made sure they all had directions to the wedding site from the hotel.

If he'd only had his own preferences to consider, he and Lisbon would be home right now consummating their marriage before finishing their packing. But he wanted her to have time with her family and friends, not to mention a wedding cake. And he wanted to prove to her that he could get along with her family. He knew she had doubts about that. For some reason.

So after the meal was finished and the cake cut and consumed, he reluctantly left Lisbon to her sisters-in-law and headed toward the bar. He decided to start with Tommy, who was standing a little apart from his brothers and nursing a beer while talking to Rigsby.

"Tommy, good to see you again," Jane said, offering his hand. Rigsby grinned and moved off toward the bar.

"Yeah, you too. Listen, I want to apologize for that stunt Annie pulled. I don't know where she learned that."

Jane grinned. "I taught her that, so I have no one but myself to blame. I'm just glad you could both make it."

"Well, who turns down a free trip to California? Anyway, I figured it'd be good for Annie to see her aunt and get away from that boyfriend of hers for a while."

"Ah, she's dating someone you don't approve of?"

"You could say that, yeah." Tommy scowled and took a swig of his beer.

"Best just to ignore it, but I'm sure your sister could scare him if you want. Or I could hypnotize him for you," Jane offered, only half joking.

"No thanks. She'd just find a worse creep to torture me with. Sometimes I really wish she was more like Reese."

Jane refrained from voicing his opinion that Annie was probably just like her aunt would have been if her family had remained intact. "Give her time. Teresa's wisdom is hard won. She'll get there."

"I guess," Tommy said doubtfully. Then he said, "Heads up, man. Here comes trouble."

Jane turned to greet James and Peter with his best smile. "James, thank you for coming. You too, Peter. I've been looking forward to meeting you both."

"Yeah, we've heard a lot about you, too," James said. "What's this about Reese quitting her job?"

"It was time," Jane said. "And now we can take a longer honeymoon."

"It was because of you, wasn't it?" James continued.

Tommy gave a snort. "Please. It's not like anybody can tell Reese what to do."

"True," Jane agreed. "I didn't ask Teresa to resign. In fact I asked her not to. But it worked out. We're going to take some time off and think about a fresh start."

Peter asked, "And what are you going to live on while you do that? You spent all this money bringing us out here, and now a trip to Ireland. You rich or something?"

Ha. He'd thought Lisbon would omit that detail, particularly since he'd told her not to. "I made quite a good living as a fake psychic. Most of that money's still there. And I can't think of a better use for my ill-gotten gains than to make the best woman I know as happy as possible."

There was no complaint to be made about that, he gloated to himself as James and Peter glanced at each other. Tommy said, "Hear, hear" and made a mock toast with his beer bottle.

"Are we toasting?" Rigsby asked, coming back over. "Hey, Cho! You're up."

Jane could only be grateful as Cho cleared his throat, making everyone turn to look at him. "I propose a toast," he announced.

Jane looked around for his bride and found her heading toward him with a smile. He smiled back and took her hand in his.

Cho began, "Despite all the crap Jane's pulled, and all the times Lisbon has punched him when he richly deserved it, they still managed to put up with each other for ten years. That's longer than a lot of marriages. So, Boss, Jane: just keep doing what you're doing. I'm only sorry not to have a front row seat for the show anymore. So here's my toast: to being smart enough to hang on to a good thing when you find it."

Jane whispered in Lisbon's ear, "Does that mean he thinks I'm a good thing?"

"It means he thinks I think you are," she replied, smiling up at him.

Next, Minelli called for a toast. "Teresa Lisbon was the best young agent I'd ever seen. When she took a grieving widower and turned him into a walking polygraph, I thought it was either going to make her career or be her downfall. Turns out, it was both. But I never dreamed she'd be reckless enough to fall in love with him. And I certainly never thought he'd have the good sense to fall in love with her. I guess sometimes it's good to be proven wrong. But Jane, you are the most undeservedly lucky SOB I've ever met. You better not make me regret foisting you onto Lisbon all those years ago. And Teresa, you call me if you change your mind about this. This time I promise to help you get rid of him."

"You tried to get rid of me?" Jane said to her in mock horror.

"Once or twice. A long time ago," she added quickly.

Minelli raised his glass. "Patrick, my advice to you is: you may be the smartest man in the room, but Teresa is the better person. Smart isn't always right. And Teresa, you are the sensible and level-headed part of this marriage, but let Patrick tempt you to goof off once in a while. It's good for you." He raised his glass. "May you always reach your goals. And may you always agree on what those are!"

"Hear, hear," Lisbon chuckled.

Tommy stepped forward and said, "To my sister, who finally found someone she can't keep in line. And to Patrick: give her as hard a time as you want, but if you make her cry, I gotta hurt you. It's a brother thing."

Jane grinned as they drank the toast.

Rigsby and Van Pelt wished that the new couple find as much happiness being married as they had, and Mary Lisbon advised them never to go to sleep angry. "Mind you, I'm not saying never go to bed angry," she added with a wink.

Jane noticed with fascination that James blushed the same shade as his sister.

After the toasts were done, Lisbon corralled her brothers, making them tell her all the latest news. Jane entertained the kids with coin tricks, making Annie his assistant for the more elaborate ones. The rest of the evening passed quickly, and it seemed like no time at all before Cho was tapping him on the shoulder. "Time to go."

"Right." Jane squared his shoulders and went to fetch his wife. It took them a long time to get out of the room with all the hugging and congratulations and promises to call, but at last they made it to the lobby with only Cho for their escort.

"Boss," Cho said as they went outside to the waiting limousine. "I'm sorry, but you need to turn in your badge and gun." He held out his hand.

Jane laid a hand on Lisbon's shoulder as she nodded, slowly removing both and giving them to Cho. She was already emotional, and she'd managed to forget that this wasn't just her wedding day, but also her last day as a CBI agent. So he wasn't surprised when tears started rolling down her cheeks. She waited for Cho to secure her gun and then threw her arms around him.

"Thanks for everything," she managed to get out.

"You go be happy," Cho whispered. Jane thought he saw a telltale shimmer in the agent's eyes as he stepped back. "Jane?"

Jane handed over his CBI ID card, smiling. "It's been fun. Be safe, Kimball."

"You too," Cho replied, extending his hand. "Stay out of trouble."

Jane shook it firmly. "I'll do my best."

He turned and helped Lisbon into the limo before getting in himself, glancing back at Cho with a smile before the driver closed the door.

As they pulled away, Jane pulled out his handkerchief and wiped at Lisbon's wet cheeks, then kissed her gently. "Try not to focus on what's ending," he said softly. "Focus on what's beginning. This is the first day of our new life. And it's going to be great. I promise you that."

"I know," she whispered, sliding her arms around him and holding on tightly. "I love you."

"I love you too, Mrs.—" He broke off. "Are you changing your name?"

"I don't know. Not until we get back, at least, since you didn't give me enough notice to change my passport," she said, sounding more like her usual self.

He chuckled. "Admit it. This was one surprise you liked."

She snorted into his neck, which tickled a bit. "If I did, it's only because nobody but you would ever do such a thing. So in a weird way, it was perfect for us."

"Yes, it was," he said with complete satisfaction.

After a moment, she added, "I also really liked that there were no Elvis impersonators."

He chuckled. "And I liked that we were sober. And that you didn't come to your senses at the last minute."

"Well, we haven't consummated our marriage yet, so technically there's still time for an annulment," she mused thoughtfully.

He smirked. "Good thing I built time into the schedule for a quickie while we finish packing."

She chuckled, smirking back. "Yes, it is."

**A/N:** So now there's just the epilogue to go! A story called "Wedding Planning" kinda has to end after the wedding, after all. :)


End file.
